"I had no thought of injuring your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. Not since she had discovered it had Ruth touched or opened the mission Bible; but to-night (the same upon which the wonderful manuscripts started on their long and circuitous voyage to America) she was inexplicably drawn to it. Where Saint Giles' church stands, once a lazar-house stood; And, chain'd to its gates, was a vessel of wood; A broad-bottom'd bowl, from which all the fine fellows, Who pass'd by that spot, on their way to the gallows, Might tipple strong beer, Their spirits to cheer, And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles! II. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees.
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