Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. He then unfolded his choice and held it before her face. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “Now replace the stone, my child.
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