" With this, he mounted his steed and rode off. Never sent for the shirt. “I have not left this apartment myself. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. "Cease your confounded clutter!" said a young man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight, struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. “I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. He rested his brow on his hand and conveyed magnificent tragedy by his pose. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed.
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