Section 3. It would be too mortifying. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. A shaft of searing heat plunged downward.
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