“Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. "Devil!" cried Jack; "that blow shall cost you your life. The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. Here, put it on your finger. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts.
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