Old Bethlehem, or Bedlam,—every trace of which has been swept away, and the hospital for lunatics removed to Saint George's Field,—was a vast and magnificent structure. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. Anyhow, there was some pleasurable satisfaction in knowing where the quarry would be for the next three weeks. Makes you real. "Jump!" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder. White, who held out her hand and beamed a welcome upon him. —Strype's Stow.
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