Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. “Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left to enable him to discern surrounding objects. A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. Let me go my own way towards them. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. It seemed an emblem of the ruin he had caused. She was consumed by misery and hate.
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