"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. " "Irons—heavy irons—night and day. . "Won't you be persuaded, Joan?" he added, making a similar offer to Mrs. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing.
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