"I do," replied Jack, carelessly. Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. He kept that, but the rest. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. Yet she held her tongue. Certainly I cannot kill you if you tell me to do so. That's a most damnable lie; and when she finds out, 'tis then she will not forgive. "Ruth?" he called. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. Nuns, I mean. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan.
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