It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. There was now no honest way of warning Taber that the net had been drawn. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. Mike chortled. Give me the chisel, Blueskin. Sheppard let fall her basket.
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