"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. A swift frown brought the still dark brows together for a moment. ‘You are the one that I have met in London. I could never make you understand. ’ The girl held out her hands. For a while he threatened her. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs.
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