She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out. Endless complications ensue when both sisters return to London. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. " "You will never become that, Ruth. From me. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man.
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