He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. " "So he is," returned Jack; "but there's no saying how long he may remain so. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. "No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his way out of the crowd. Pardon what I have said, Madam. Take the one that struck him at this moment. ‘Difficult, I grant you. Giles's church, the bell of which continued tolling all the time, passed the pound, and entered Oxford Road, or, as it was then not unfrequently termed, Tyburn Road. Occasionally he relit his pipe. You will survive, mark my words. "I can't say I do," replied Wood.
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