1. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. With a swirl of her floral chintz petticoats, she placed herself in the capacious window seat, accepted the glass Gerald handed to her, and smiled mischievously up at him. It appeared from what he said that he had been captured when asleep,—that his liquor had been drugged,—otherwise, he would never have allowed himself to be taken alive. He, next, seized the unlucky jailer, and forced him along, while Blueskin expedited his movements by administering a few kicks behind.
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