But God will punish you for what you have done this day. Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. A faint gleam of returning colour gave her at once a more natural appearance. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not. 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. It was eleven o'clock. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. The preparations to meet him were immense, roses were planted everywhere, white and drooping with honeyed fragrance.
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