But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. ’ Grasping the lantern, and heedless now of the discomforts of the passage, Melusine flew like the wind back towards the library, the vision of Jack Kimble’s white face driving her on. ’ A question leapt into Everett’s head and he recalled the letter to the Abbess. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. She had heard the trader utter it many times.
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