We fetched the doctor and the police. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. "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. She will take me in until I can make some plans.
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