Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. " "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. His hot juices coursed into her in quick bursts. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. "Leave me alone with him a moment," said Jonathan.
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