Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. “Who will you stop with?” “I shall go on my own. ” She agreed. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. It was 1582. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. It was a grand life.
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