” Courtlaw’s walking stick, which he had been handling, fell with a crash to the ground. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. That had shut him up for a while. Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. Both carried packages of books and magazines. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest.
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