’ ‘That wasn’t my fault. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. ’ She was about to develop this theme, when Jack’s gaze became fixed, and his expression changed. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant.
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