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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"
Her fingers closed over his. The touch of the young fellow, so
full of buoyant strength and hope and happiness, seemed to put new
life into her.
"I don't know, Jack." Her voice fell to a whisper. "There may not
be anything, yet I live under an awful terror. Don't ask me;--only
tell me you will help me if I need you. I have nobody else--my
stepfather almost turned me out of his office when I went to see
him the other day,--my mother doesn't care. She has only been here
half a dozen times, and that was when baby was born. Hush,--here
comes Ruth,--she must not know."
"But she MUST know, Corinne. I never have any secrets from Ruth,
and don't you have any either. Ruth couldn't be anything but kind
to you and she never misunderstands, and she is so helpful. Here
she is. Ruth, dear, we were just waiting for you. Corinne is
nervous and depressed, and imagines all sorts of things, one of
which is that we don't care for her: and I've just told her that
we do?"
Ruth looked into Jack's eyes as if to get his meaning--she must
always get her cue from him now--she was entirely unconscious of
the cause of it all, or why Corinne should feel so, but if Jack
thought Corinne was suffering and that she wanted comforting, all
she had was at Corinne's and Jack's disposal.


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