As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. I get along with my Mom sometimes, Lucy. If we don’t live it will think we are afraid of it. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating. We did not know where to send … in case you died.
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