He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. ‘Tchah! So you’re the whelp’s girl, are you? Suppose you’ve nothing but that villainous French in your tongue. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears.
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