She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. She had looked up from her seat at the small round table in the centre of the parlour which, together with the wooden armchairs beside the small fireplace, and a sideboard next the single casement, was all the furniture the place afforded. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. It might be dangerous to thwart him.
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