The chain, which had been partially cut through, snapped near the staple. "Well, who'd have thought of Shotbolt beating us all in this way!" said Ireton. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. I don’t mind it. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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