Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. All further examinations must be conducted in the presence of proper witnesses. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical.
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