A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs. ‘But I am perfectly serious,’ he returned in a voice of protest. If you don’t eat humble-pie now you may live to fare worse later. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. " "What's the matter, Ruth?" asked Spurlock, anxiously. It is putting all my dreams out of joint. Why don’t you make sure before you rush out like that upon a stranger?” “You were with my wife,” Hill repeated sullenly. That added to his puzzle. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. I've despatched him to the New Prison.
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