1. Still, one never could tell. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears, and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house.
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