It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. That is the dreadful truth. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. ’ She sagged a little suddenly, as if the painful memories in her mind had exhausted her body. I tell you this child would have been strangled. Mr. Jonathan again seized her, when the door was thrown open, and Thames Darrell, followed by Mr.
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