“And let us have a talk about this—some other time. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened the door. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people. You've caught the colour and the life. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth.
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