“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. "Get it over quickly," said Trenchard, in a whisper to the thief-taker. During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm prevailed. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself. In a moment his grasp grew weaker. There you are! Girl spoilt for life.
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