Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. "Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. "All my life I've dreamed of something like this," he said, divertingly, with a gesture which included the yacht. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. However, if I've lost one servant, I've gained another, that's one comfort. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. He shall have the estates.
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