Never before had he seen a man like Enschede nor heard a voice like Ruth's. But he could only utter an inarticulate exclamation. “I knew you wouldn’t mind. You will be my witness, Madame Joan. Under happier circumstances nothing would have given me more pleasure than to have offered you a home with your sister. I’ve no name for it yet. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear.
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