’ ‘Then they are soldiers. The musician. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. "If any one's to blame, it's me. He could scarcely blame her. He looked at her reproachfully. You’re going to live under the cat’s foot. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him.
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