A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. "And now," cried Jack, leaping up, "for an achievement, compared with which all I have yet done shall be as nothing!" CHAPTER XVII. Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. It was then for the first time she remembered that she had said nothing to her sister of the man in the hospital. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. I have only just left Wych Street. "I've been always true to you.
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