"And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. Here I am. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily.
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