There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. Her heart in her mouth, she heard his foot scrape on the floorboard and knew from his expression that Gosse had heard it too. You told him there wasn't anything in the pockets?" "Yes.
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