" Ruth walked to the companion. The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. The Wastrel did not relish this. Dump instantly complied, and as soon as Jack was removed from the sacred edifice, his person was searched from head to foot—but without success. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. " "Done!" cried the old sailor.
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