‘Well, only look what’s come of it. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. Prison was bleak without spaciousness, and pervaded by a faint, oppressive smell; and she had to wait two hours in the sullenly defiant company of two unclean women thieves before a cell could be assigned to her. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. There would be no moon.
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