" All day long the phrase interpolated her thoughts. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. They sell only their talents, not their bodies; they are not girls of the street. When the hero finally did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. His last actions were futile. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money. Let me bind you up, and then you can attend to her. ‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly.
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