" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. In the floor were set four ring-bolts, about nine feet apart. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner, threw open the wicket. “Not only that,” he answered. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. They do a good job, huh?” He smiled at her. She came to her one day and pulled on her apron. And so, here we are, right back from where we started. ” She scoffed. ‘You’re speaking the truth. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder.
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