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Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. “There’s the classes,” said Constance, the well-informed. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. Presently he felt motion. The villagers were thronging to church. " The phrase was new, but Ruth nodded understandingly. . Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. You have been to see your sister, of course.
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