She addressed Capes as though she spoke to him alone. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. Ruth did not reply, but stared past the doctor, her eyes misty. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. ’ ‘And me,’ came the guttural response, ‘I will certainly murder you the very next time I am compelled to see your face.
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