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"That's well. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. Loved his memory still, for all he knew.
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