“Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. ‘Aye, that she was. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets.
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