He glanced up at the coachman. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Stanley, to which the two ladies subordinated themselves intelligently. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. ” “Very well,” he said.
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