By a miracle, he averted its path, his hold on the girl’s mouth shifting fast to grasp her wrist. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. —What do you know of Thames?— Where is he?" "Don't agitate yourself, dearest girl," rejoined the woollen-draper; "or I shall never be able to commence my relation. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem.
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