“After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. ‘Cajolery? This is not your style. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. She held up the lamp. No offence, I hope. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding.
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