Come along home, Ruth. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. ‘Thank you,’ she said, leaning heavily on his arm for a moment. McClintock was amused. Your reputation for hospitality would remain under a cloud though, for tea was distinctly mentioned. I say again, grace à vous. 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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