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Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. Perhaps I am still mad. Above this revolting spot was the female debtor's ward; below it a gloomy cell, called Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most terrible and noisome dungeon, situated underground, and unvisited by a single ray of daylight. She could not hide her face. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself.
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