The Times slipped from his fingers. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. Earles glanced at it, and his eyes flashed with anger. On this side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail, led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring to mademoiselle as “she”. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep.
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