"Answer me one question first?" he said; "I half suspect you're Jack Sheppard. Come along home, Ruth. I don’t understand the workings of a gentleman’s mind. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. The two young fools laughed until they cried.
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