Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. Wood, "and take your son with you. “How could I, when your sister sings now at the ‘Unusual’ every night and the name ‘Alcide’ flaunts from every placard in London?” “The likeness between us,” she said, “before I began to disfigure myself with rouge and ill-dressed hair, was remarkable. . Ruth could not be told now. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. What! mum still. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different.
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