I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. Kneebone nodded. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. Maggot, who promptly interposed her cudgel. I didn't mean it. I asked him—to take me away.
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