” The detective went down on his hands and knees. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. A bad one in a rough-and-tumble; all the water-front tricks. . As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. You want to think for a time, to be free for a time. I tried. ‘Good.
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