Gerald would certainly have demanded back his sword. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. " "The pianist?" "Yes. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. But I will go. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth.
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