He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her. This was the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen cloth, through which the blood had oosed. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. The moment he was out in the hall, Ruth sat up hugging and rocking her body in delight. You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald.
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