“Fine. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. And that confounded engagement!” “Gone!” They came upon a platform, and stood before her compartment. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. “I want an engagement. The horse-soldiers wheeled round and cleared a path: the foot closed in upon the cart. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. Enough to let her find out a piece of information most urgent. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket.
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