He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. . " Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree.
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