Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. She turned there and beckoned. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. I thought he was in Newgate.
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