"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. But his eyes were on the Frenchman, and as Valade moved up the other road a little way, the lad shifted alertly, and swiftly closed the distance to the intersection. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. But let that verse tell my secret. Her voice seemed to come from a long way off.
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