She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf. He lifted her from the floor.
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