Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. He’s a catch, Lucy. Here again the clothes were minus the labels. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. "I would have done more, if necessary. She owed the nun a great deal, including her command of English, for no one else thought to ensure she could speak her mother tongue. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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