’ ‘Woof!’ Sergeant Trodger’s eyes fairly popped out of his head, and he seized his prisoner’s arm again. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. His sister followed. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. ’ Gerald laughed and clapped him on the back.
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