“Fine. ‘And nor do I. There were game watermen and game lightermen, heavy horsemen and light horsemen, scuffle-hunters, and long-apron men, lumpers, journeymen coopers, mud-larks, badgers, and ratcatchers—a race of dangerous vermin recently, in a great measure, extirpated by the vigilance of the Thames Police, but at this period flourishing in vast numbers. ‘What we have to find out is whether or not the wretched female is in fact Lord Charvill’s granddaughter. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. " CHAPTER XI. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort.
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