“The next question, Miss Anna,” he said, “is how am I to help you? I am wholly at your disposal. His voice propelled her to cry even harder, so hard that she began to laugh behind her tears. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. She started at the falling of a leaf, at the lumbering of a cow through the hedge. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. Here was a little corner of the past—a tragic corner. Anna tore it open and passed it to Courtlaw. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. I wonder.
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