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It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. "Well, I'm sure Winifred could never have loved you as well as I do," said Mrs. " There was another pause.
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