"Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. ‘And this is not all,’ went on the lady, evidently determined to disclose all her wrongs. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. I hear her coming. She smiled. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found.
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