To-night I locked up my flat at six o’clock. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried. Milky sunlight spilled on the floor. He was speechless. "So you did," replied the prize-fighter. \"How's it going, Lucy?\" She turned. Her aunt leaped unhappily to the thought of penitence. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Here, without a glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin at stated intervals, who neither answered a question nor addressed a word to him; fed upon the worst diet, literally mouldy bread and ditch-water; surrounded by stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and without so much as a blanket to protect him from the death-like cold that pierced his frame,—Jack's stout heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejection, ardently longing for the time when even a violent death should terminate his sufferings.
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