\"483-4492. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. “And think of the ordinary wives and mothers, with their anxiety, their limitations, their swarms of children!” Mr. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. One thing—he could be thankful for that—the peak of his misfortunes had been reached; the world might come to an end now and not matter in the least.
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