What about them?” He called a hansom. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. “But I’m afraid you are going to be in a hopeless minority here as regards me. Come.
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