" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. "Well, since you force me to betray my master's secrets," replied Quilt, sullenly, "I've ridden express to Manchester to deliver a message to Sir Rowland. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think.
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