What he needed was not a food but a flavour; and the cocoanut taste of the chestnuts soothed his burning tongue and throat. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded.
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