" "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing. " She wanted to dance. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. CHAPTER XXXII.
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