You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. " "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck.
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