Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. "Past noon," replied Blueskin. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't.
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