She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. “You are coming right out into life—facing it all. The sound of her flying feet brought Gerald leaping for the door. Does it?” “I think it does. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. Never mind.
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