. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Her fingers opened and the weapon fell from her nerveless grasp. My address is 94, Pall Mall. E. .
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