" "Off!" she exclaimed, breaking from his embrace with a scream. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Some day I may forgive you; but not now. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. Some of your sex, I mean. ’ ‘I’m not going to release you, so it’s no use complaining. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. "To shoot you would be to lose the reward.
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