This was not exactly what the woollen-draper desired. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. "Don't fire," cried the latter. To O'Higgins—for all his sordid business he was not insensible to beauty—to O'Higgins she appeared to have entered the room with the light. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory.
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