In the afternoon my brain and fingers leap to their work because you have been with me. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Even you have not been able to hold her back. I never ran away from anywhere with anybody anywhen. Spurlock stared at Ruth across the rim of his bowl.
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