Her back stiffened. A door in this house opened upon the yard. A town called Foster. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. Where can I have heard it!" "Devil knows," rejoined Blueskin. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy.
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