The Night-Cellar XVIII. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. "My friends need not fear my return. Playing became a way of escape. " "Killed someone?" O'Higgins laughed. " "Holloa! my hearty!" cried Ben, starting to his feet. “Drive towards St. Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof.
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