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The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. " "I am not, by Heaven," returned the knight, solemnly. Give me that picture, or I'll make you!" "Hear me," said Thames, calmly; "you well know you're no match for me. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson.
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