A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. He went more easily this time. "Not a single whooper-upter! Nothing but torment and remorse … and Ruth! Children, put your arms around me. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt.
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