When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Don’t go back into Victorian respectability and pretend you don’t know and you can’t think and all the rest of it. "What's become of Ruth?" "Gone to her room. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said.
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