She finished the olive and looked up. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries.
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