"Oh! never mind him: he'll take no harm! Come with me into the parlour. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity. "It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me.
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