Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Another horseman followed quickly at the heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed missed its footing, and fell. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard. “All these days I have taken her for you.
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