It was cramped even at the end of the passage. "To be sure I will, my child. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. Look at the poor victim at your feet. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates. She reflected before answering. "Of course," responded the widow, heaving a deep sigh. ’ Gerald considered. ’ ‘You mean the one that you refused to feed?’ demanded Gerald, seizing this promising cue and adopting a mournful note.
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