And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. The youth of them! And what was he going to do when they left his island? What would Donald McClintock be doing with himself, when youth left the island, never more to return? Ruth was thrilling with joy.
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