CHAPTER VI Sidney Carton, thought Ruth, in pursuit of a sing-song girl! The idea was so incongruous that a cold little smile parted her lips. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. Little things, almost impalpable, had happened to justify that doubt; something in his manner had belied his words. S. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open.
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