CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. Or run me through. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. " With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly.
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