"Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. "But you said you weren't particular. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Don’t take my word for it though. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth. She must not show anything.
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