The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband.
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