Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. As he approached the gable of Mrs. " The Wastrel tried to reach Ruth's lips. She put out her hands to avoid his embrace. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly. “Excellent!” he exclaimed.
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