"I'm going back for Ruth. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. "It's not very likely that a babby of nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. My reception at West Kensington you know of. Life is a patchwork of impressions, of vanishing personalities.
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