"My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. The theme was a masquerade. "You hear that," cried Mrs. “You ought at once—you ought at once to have told her that. 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. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. Though I’ll wager she used this passage, and we certainly ought to investigate it.
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