" All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. She’s taken my sword. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. Like a petulant child he snapped. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. From the Sha-mien to the yacht, Spurlock had uttered no word; though, even in the semi-darkness, no gesture or word of Ruth's escaped him. It’s well hidden, miss.
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