‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. ” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point.
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