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She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. “I tell my Mom everything. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. John, he was between me and the door. Ruth was strong in body and soul. I speak no harm of her. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed.

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