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Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. The man lingered. So she said: “I won’t come home. Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. She was dressed as a white woman should be; and that for the present satisfied her instincts. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. ’ At a quarter past eleven I returned here with this gentleman, Mr.
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