She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were for the moment unbound, sit down before them. ‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. .
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