The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. What was to happen now? She turned to Roding quickly. "To go a little further. Loneliness. Then, one night, he glanced up to behold Ruth and Rollo in the doorway. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you.
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