Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. “I hope you will not compel me to say again that I do not know the man’s name, nor, to the best of my belief, have I ever seen him before in my life. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. "Has any one been here?" he asked. “I wanted to make love to you. We have that gift. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. . "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly. .
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