. "Well, Jack," he said, after a pause, "are you disposed to go back quietly with me?" "You'll ascertain that when you attempt to touch me," rejoined Sheppard, resolutely. I have never been wrong about the sex of an unborn child. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate.
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