"Captain," he cried, in a voice of the bitterest anguish, "have these dogs again hunted you down? If you hadn't been so unlucky, I should have been with you before to-morrow night. “I was born there. " "I imagine I've been in a kind of trance. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. " "Oh, no!" Ruth protested. These passers-by who touch us but lightly and are gone, leaving the eternal imprint! So long as she lived, Ruth would always remember that embrace.
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