John eased off. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed. She shivered, more due to his presence than the changing weather. “Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. ” “Mary, please don’t cry. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment.
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