Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. "Ay, good luck to him! so we have," rejoined Terence; "but we've no objection to take out the dochter's bill in drink. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. "I hear you plotting with your wicked associates," cried Mrs. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's.
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