"And, does any of our bright blood flow in the veins of a ruffianly housebreaker?" cried Trenchard, with a look of bewilderment. ‘Even the nuns they say I am like a devil. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. A sense of impending disaster was upon him. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W.
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