Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. We’re closer than you think. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this.
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