Then she passed from the room on the arm of General Lord Charvill, chatting animatedly to him. Ask mercy of the Lord for the salvation of your own soul, through the merits of the death and passion of Jesus Christ, who now sits at the right hand of God, to make intercession for you, if you penitently return to him. "Ruth!" She had gone to the door, aimlessly, without purpose. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead.
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