‘And all to help me. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. The musician. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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