” They hesitated. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. How little he knew about Ruth—the background from which she had sprung! He knew that her father was a missioner, that her mother was dead, that she had been born on this island, and that, at the time of his collapse, she had been on the way to an aunt in the States. “Oh, yes, that’s right, we go to school. How dreary it all looks. " "Why not?" "I am a thief, a hunted man.
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