She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you. Rank ingratitude, I call it. She shut her lips hard, her jaw hardened, and she set herself to struggle with him.
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