" "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive. "Ruth, you must not come and sit on the threshold. . ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again. The shouts drew nearer, and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides and gables of the neighbouring houses. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone.
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