It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. " "Risk, or no risk, I shall go," replied Jack. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. “Besides, it is not so. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. Wood, with a message for Lady Trafford. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat.
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