“Listen to me. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. Groans and hoots were now raised by the crowd, and there was an evident disposition to rescue. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. Already she missed all of her fine things, her linens and leather bound books.
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