“I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her. Too bad he’s not interested in any girl who’s not a musician. Wood started to his feet. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Sheila was often a terror to her husband Mark, who seemed afraid of her. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. The arrival of the cart at the end of Field Lane, appeared the signal for an attempt at rescue.
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