The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. ’ ‘Between the devil and the deep blue sea, he were,’ agreed Pottiswick’s daughter. His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. ‘Pig! Pig, a thousand times!’ Running footsteps could be heard now, and she knew that the commotion was bringing the nuns, just as she had hoped. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea.
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