"Perhaps. A silver necklace enhanced the dusky beauty of her neck. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. 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. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her.
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