" "Be still!" returned Jonathan, in the same under tone, and with great selfpossession: "I can yet save you. “And if I were you I would keep away from the fire. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. “You must fetch a doctor,” she said.
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