The conceit of Howard Spurlock in imagining he knew what mental suffering was! But Enschede was right: Ruth must never know. " "Iss, Massa Austin," replied the black. "I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. I offered myself as a clerk, as a milliner, as a shop girl. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book.
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