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He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. He seemed too noisy. The fascination of the idea of throwing himself upon his knees and crying out all that was in his heart! As his eyes began to focus objects, he saw one of her arms extended upon the counterpane, in his direction, the hand clenched tightly. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. "Promise me that. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. But, let's see the prisoner. "I am as God made me. Humph.
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