But it wasn’t the harassment that bothered her. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. First the passage to be negotiated. “You, too,” he said abruptly. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin.
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