“Are you with us?” said the tired woman. Ruth shivered; she was cold. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. To be no longer with Martha was strange.
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