The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. You would suffer the torments of the damned for what you had done. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. Don’t imagine that. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task.
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