Her father’s step quickened to a trot. “Annabel!” He looked at her thoughtfully. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. But then the features changed. He would stare at her intensely when he was certain his parents were not looking in his direction. We came on here at once. I cannot explain beyond that.
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