Sebastian’s land holdings were enormous, reaching across the Alps. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. "Halloa!" cried Jack, looking round, and trying to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker,—"who's that?" "Your mother," replied Mrs.
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