Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. Sulphurous poisons assaulted her nostrils as she threw the stone to one side of its resting place. ‘I don’t want no gold! Not for serving my mistress.
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