"I'm going back for Ruth. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket.
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