I have no intention of arresting you. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. The worst was over now. "Ruth?" he called. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily.
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