A murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of whom Jack was recognised. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. "I believe I'll tear them up. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. He had invited himself to dine with her merely to watch her table manners. I was certain of it. At the thought of the major, her tears redoubled and she was obliged to rip off a piece from the remnants of her already maltreated underpetticoats with which to blow her nose and soak the damp from her cheeks. "I shall kill her if I stay longer," muttered her son, completely terrified.
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