Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. They both listened intently. " He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until it touched his chest. ” He rejoiced over this emancipation. And pouring the contents of a small powderflask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture.
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