The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. She was practically destitute of jewellery. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. How Jack Sheppard got out of the Condemned Hold 310 XI.
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