As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Gerald would not marry her even with a dowry. But, on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with it. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Don't shake so. He must be tied behind the carriage. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. .
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