” Chapter XXV THE STEEL EDGE OF THE TRUTH The manservant, with his plain black clothes and black tie, had entered the room with a deferential little gesture. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. E. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears.
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