"What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. What else could one say? I left him to suppose—a registry perhaps. Roused by Ben's warning, the carpenter looked up and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge looming through the darkness, and rendered indistinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from the windows of the lofty houses. “If ever you do and I can help you in any way, by advice or inquiry or recommendation—You see, I’m no believer in feminine incapacity, but I do perceive there is such a thing as feminine inexperience. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot.
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