It fell to the ground and smoked ominously. His face darkened. He's safe enough now. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. . See what you have made of me. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen.
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