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Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. “Here, dis is for you. Yours?" The stranger hesitated. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. Give me your staff. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. That bruise will answer the same purpose.
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