Though by no means so extensive or commodious as the modern prison, Old Newgate was a large and strongly-built pile. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. “Ugh!” she said. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. He smiled inwardly. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. .
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