"A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. " No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and he fainted. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate.
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