Kneebone's habitation, the shutters of which were closed, and knocked at the door. ‘I do not know him. ‘Pitiful. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. . He was ready to seed his legacy, and you were a pawn to be moved out of the way. But his daughter might well have a claim. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely.
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