It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. "By Heaven!" cried he in a tone of surprise, "you have an infant there?" "To be sure I have," replied Wood, angrily; for, finding that the intentions of the stranger were pacific, so far as he was concerned, he thought he might safely venture on a slight display of spirit.
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