"Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack: "follow me. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. " Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open. Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. The pieces fell to the ground in a little white shower.
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