He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. "And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you. I desire, Sir, you'll recollect yourself. I took the money myself, and ought to know. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. They stood for a moment in the passage and listened.
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