" He offered cigars, and Ruth got up. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. "No," replied Jack. After listening attentively for a short time without drawing breath, he became convinced that his apprehensions were groundless, and, greatly relieved, sat down upon the chair to rest himself and prepare for further efforts. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. ‘And I don’t mind telling you it goes agin’ the grain with me to let you go free and all, missie.
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