" "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money.
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