She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. Anna followed her finger, and looked back into her sister’s face. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. They all left the room. "Help! help!" "You call in vain," returned Kneebone. But for him——” Something in her sister’s tone startled Anna.
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