’ ‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall. ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions. I’m sorry. " "For a bit of kindness?" Ruth was plainly bewildered. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness.
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