Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. She cleaned everything, wiped every surface, mopped and scrubbed every last drop of blood. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. This year—I’ve got it badly. Sir John once more looked around him. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. Something to tell you. ’ Gerald tutted. ’ ‘A pox on the creature,’ swore Mrs Sindlesham, clenching and unclenching her stiff fingers. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair. . And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. It needs cultivating, I think.
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