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. 260 “Can you turn me into one?” “Yes, I can turn you into one tonight. He was at length rescued from his assailants,— rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his victim. ’ Still no response. I know what I am doing better than you do. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her.
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