He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. " "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. " A shadow, which was not cast by the jib, fell upon them both. ” “It would suit me.
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