] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. The original passage, Martha had told her, had led only from an upstairs room to one downstairs. " "Unconsciously, perhaps," replied Thames. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Just now the waterchestnuts…. Certain it was, that the slightest sound aroused him. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. ‘Espéce de diable,’ she screamed. You must think it over. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms.
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