"I'll not believe it. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, carelessly. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. "I'll be their substitute. I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return.
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