’ ‘I’m hanged if I can make out either of you,’ complained Hilary. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. What could she do? Reluctantly, at a second curt command, she began to step across the uncarpeted floor, her eyes never leaving the threatening pistol. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. Slowly descending Snow Hill, the train passed on its way, attended by the same stunning vociferations, cheers, yells, and outcries, which had accompanied it on starting from Newgate.
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