Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. "But bring your glim this way. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. ‘Burned them, one by one, right before that fellow’s eyes. "I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene.
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