There was no disgust in Ruth's heart, only an infinite pity; for only the pitiful understand. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. Montague Hill, and I do not think that under those circumstances I should be long about it. Get the pole out of your ass. It may be useful to you. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment.
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