In worldly matters Gay was not fortunate. Gerald perhaps would know how to find him. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. “But, how,” he said, sitting up astonished beyond measure, “not go on?” “I have been thinking while you have been talking.
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