” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. "It is Jack Sheppard, the noted housebreaker," cried Jonathan, at the top of his sonorous voice. "Leave him to me," he said. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes. Sanguine they were not. "He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard. Her father was right: Ruth must never know.
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