“I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action.
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