It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. She knew she was a monster and so did they. CHAPTER XXIX. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. 1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg-tm License. "We're merely about to discharge our duty by apprehending a rebel.
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