There it is. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. . The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task.
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