“I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. But if God is kind to me, someday I may climb up to where you are.
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