Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. "Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along a street towards Hatton Garden. He did not disturb any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess. "See her I will.
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