“Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. Because I’m younger than you. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter.
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