All that I regret are the wasted years, and I am not sure that I regret them. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. " "Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing away his pipe, which was just finished. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and indulgently. .
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