CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT Part 1 Spring had held back that year until the dawn of May, and then spring and summer came with a rush together. The Storm. ‘Imbecile. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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