To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. Entering the Red Room, he crept through the hole in the wall, descended the chimney, and arrived once more in his old place of captivity. Enschede, to have starved his heart as well as Ruth's because, having laid a curse, he knew not how to turn aside from it! How easily he might have forgotten the unworthy mother in the love of the child! And this day to hear her voice lifted in a quality of anathema.
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