She gathered up the chain, revealing a locket which had lain hidden in her bosom. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. "Have a little patience, Sir," rejoined the jailer. Go and live somewhere else. With this she now entered. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify.
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