"I give you one minute for reflection. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. ‘Oh, Lord,’ muttered Gerald, going instantly to her aid. "Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. "My father!" she whispered. " He was delighted to find the office deserted. Then he went on: “—and, indeed, to most of the established things in life is, frankly, unsatisfactory. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this.
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