He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ” Lucy said. ” “I will have your reason for this,” he said. She twisted her fingers tightly. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. .
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