A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. Their duty was to see who came in, or went out; to lock up, and open the different wards; to fetter such prisoners as were ordered to be placed in irons; to distribute the allowances of provision; and to maintain some show of decorum; for which latter purpose they were allowed to carry whips and truncheons. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane.
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