Some have no males. Her mother missed writing for a week, and then she wrote in an unusual key. "Not my king's," returned Wood. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. "Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. That is the dreadful truth.
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