Eight per cent. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. CHAPTER XIII. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. 6. Meanwhile, Mr. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Sheppard. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. John eased off. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man.
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