" As he said this, a slight noise was heard without. "Arrest!" vociferated Wood. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. But no more of that. A slow horror was dawning in his fixed eyes. 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. 'Avow nothing, believe nothing, give nothing for nothing,' is my own motto. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths.
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