Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. Then she turned, and entering the inner room, commenced to dress hastily for the street. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. "It is your son. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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