" Then he looked at Ruth. All at once Melusine remembered Pottiswick, and the errand he had run. Why, is the question I would like answered. It must have been impossible to see me through that much rain. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. We aren't between him and heaven; he is between us and heaven. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him.
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