"Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. "Don't you hear those shouts? Yon fellow's clamour has brought the whole horde of jail-birds and cut-throats that infest this place about our ears. A little kindness would not bring the world tumbling about her ears. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. ‘Come, Hilary. You heard her.
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