"I was at Tyburn. Her confession was still unmade. I'll wait for you down here. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man.
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