She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness, and nearly as wide as the passage. " "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. John’s parents were won over.
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