All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. "Give it me," returned the carpenter; "all's safe. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. I had not been near the Royal Society since—since you disgraced me. ‘And I trust you will pardon my inadequacies. I haven't touched the other. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain.
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