At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny.
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