No one spoke to her. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. "If you doubt my word, woman," replied the carpenter's wife, coldly, "ask Mr. I am tired, and I want to be alone. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child.
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