Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. For the present the desire to fly was gone. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. It was, in fact, a group of interests quite unlike any other group, peculiar and special, and one to be thoroughly ashamed of. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Her eyes flashed. Her father read a draft prospectus warily, and her aunt dropped fragments of her projects for managing while the cook had a holiday.
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