She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. "What is your name?" "Ruth. " The girl's blood ran warmly for a minute. " "My father!" exclaimed Thames, in the utmost astonishment; "let me see it!" "Here it is," returned Jack, producing a small picture in a case set with brilliants. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. He is a knight.
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