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Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. " He stuffed the printed chintz into her arms and smiled into her eyes. “You doubted me?” She joked. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace.
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