At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me. The houses on Snow Hill were thronged, like those in Old Bailey. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor.
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