‘Though he didn’t mean it. Jack's body was caught, and passed from hand to hand over a thousand heads, till it was far from the fatal tree. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. The pouting cherry lips were slightly parted and the very faintest of panting breaths, together with the quick rise and fall of an alluring bosom, betrayed her fear. ” Brendon leaned over confidentially. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. "That was the lad's name," returned the stranger.
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