And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. ” The man’s face was dark with passion. I didn’t know that you had it that bad,” said John. "Bravo, Poll!" cried Jack, who having again pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines on a sheet of paper. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. White assented. Thames Darrell.
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