‘Don’t, miss,’ uttered the boy. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. Some one was standing beside him. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. . I’ll come and see you again later on.
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