Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. Blackness was beginning to consume the cornfield. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. She pulled her hand away quickly. "Your father said so before you," replied Jonathan, malignantly; "and yet it has tarried thus long. One or the other. She had come to despise those who were fertile out of pure jealousy, but could not admit it to herself.
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