That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. I speak no harm of her. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered.
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