"Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. You have said a thousand times that there was no shame in you. The hotel on the Peak had the aspect of a fairy castle. By Jasus! he's about to spake to us.
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