It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. Lucy looked about confusedly. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. They both listened intently. " "Oh, that!" He raised his head, staring at her in blank astonishment. Annabel, come to the door with me,” she added a little abruptly. Something changed for her. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love.
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