Little Anna screamed and thrashed as she was torn from Lucy’s skirts. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth intervened. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply.
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