"For the caption!" replied Jackson, coolly drawing a brace of pistols from his pockets. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. Light the lantern. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. I want you to be my wife.
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