'—'No fear o' that,' thought I. CHAPTER XX. “That’s the point. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. " "It must be restored instantly,—be the consequences what they may. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper.
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