" Ruth spread out the ruffled skirt, sundrily torn and soiled. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that. " "I don't care if he is," rejoined Thames, boldly. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. The woman shrugged her shoulders. "Don't you hear those shouts? Yon fellow's clamour has brought the whole horde of jail-birds and cut-throats that infest this place about our ears.
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