“Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. "Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful.
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