The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Ruth sighed; Spurlock stood up and drew his hand across his forehead as if awakening from a dream. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. ” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. It saved me the bother of being studied. \" She whispered back. ” He took them from her and read them. C. F. I do not know. One cannot trust any man at all. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. He thought it best to let the matter drop.
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