He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. F. "Yes, or no?" "I will make no terms with you," rejoined Wild, sternly. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer.
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