Both ladies were on easy and friendly terms with all that was best in Morningside Park society; they had an afternoon once a month that was quite well attended, they sometimes gave musical evenings, they dined out and gave a finish to people’s dinners, they had a full-sized croquet lawn and tennis beyond, and understood the art of bringing people together. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. " "Hold!" interposed Winifred, gravely. Retreating as quickly as he could, Jack opened the first door he came to, entered a room, and searching in the dark for some place of concealment, fortunately discovered a skreen, behind which he crept. Nobody who cared. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been. She went into premature labor. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring.
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