“Let’s go home. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. It is the worst of talk under such social circumstances that it is always getting cut off so soon as it is beginning; and I went home that afternoon feeling I had said nothing—literally nothing—of the things I had meant to say to you and that were coursing through my head. Then you won't tell me where he's going?" "I will tell you six months from now. ‘Stay, Saling!’ The butler halted, looking round enquiringly. She could not speak.
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