Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. But we get over it. Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter One In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, the deserted mansion slept. “The fees are paid to the end of the session. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort.
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