"No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. During this movement, Jack grasped the barrel of his pistol, held in his breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long knife, to keep still. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said.
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