To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. Here they remained till midnight when, calling for their reckoning and their steeds, they left the house. Nothing seemed to be amiss. "You are no longer Thames Darrell," she said, casting her eyes rapidly over it; "but the Marquis de Chatillon. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject.
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