The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. "To shoot you would be to lose the reward. Then he relaxed back a little, and let the weapon dangle from his fingers. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred.
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