They then clambered over a hedge, and scaling another wall, got into the garden at the back of the house. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. She knew that her voice was superior to Annabel’s, and she had no further qualms. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire. There must be ways of getting rid of him. A new thought checked her steps and she froze.
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