Sheppard, meekly. Ruth, standing by, heard his true laughter for the first time. Aided by an individual, who was acquainted with a secret outlet from the tenement, Darrell escaped. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls. She remained for some seconds crouching at the fender, poker in hand.
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