It was the grand nursery of vice. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. “Ssh!” said her mother, and then added, “A little natural feeling, dear. I made Hainault’s acquaintance, stood him drinks, lent him money.
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