"What's that you're saying about Jack Sheppard?" she cried. Of course a little daughter is a delightful thing enough. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise. ’ ‘It will be worth the pain, you will see. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Nothing else matters. " "What's the matter?" remarked Kneebone, addressing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and trembled. "By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do.
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