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At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. “No doubt about that,” Meddoes continued. His fingers closed upon her hand. In fact, the reflection of the flames lighted up the ward in which Jack Sheppard was confined. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. Ruth is not another man's wife; she is all your own, for better or for worse. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about.
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