Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. "Good night.
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