“Act three. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. Until that moment, Jarvis had imagined the child to be safe in the wet-nurse’s cottage. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. “Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said.
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