" She departed reluctantly. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. Earles, but it is a good one. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. There is no future for me here. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess.
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