“I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn. She described it so vividly. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. He then scaled the northern tower, and made his way to the summit of that part of the prison which fronted Giltspur Street.
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