“Silly!” he remarked after a pause. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. Suppose her father turned her out of doors! She did not care, she meant to go. What was the matter with the dress? She could not see. You are very lovely, Ruth. ” Sir John breathed a long deep sigh. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs.
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