The boy would naturally attract the women, if the women were at all romantic. That capitaine has arranged it all. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone.
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