"Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. It cuts. “I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out. I’m not a lovesick boy. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks.
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