The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened. ” “I know,” said Mr Manning, “I know these Dreadful Statistics. You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. " "Then we won't even show you that mercy," retorted the thief-taker brutally. There was an eerie sense of brooding menace about an uninhabited establishment.
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