By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. "I alone am to blame. You dear, dear girl. But he had been forewarned by his great-nephew. She came in while he was still in the throes, conviction battling with commonsense, his own apprehension. Enschede halted. ‘Quite mad, nuns are. I have seen many of them. But it was under false names, so I dare say it ain’t valid. If the boy did not love the girl, why the devil had he dragged her into this marriage? Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly—as the brain always acts when confronted by a perplexing riddle. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. But I don’t think she lays hold of one so.
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