There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. However, it would only be robbing the hangman of his dues. But it never said: "Tell someone! Tell someone!" Was he something of a moral pervert, then? Was it what he had lost—the familiar world—rather than what he had done? He stared dully at the footrail. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile.
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