It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. “My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much. CHAPTER III. They will be safe. The rest was easy. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. And now take away those cards, and never let me see them again.
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