Faintly I wondered again at Ruth's scantiness of garb, her more than half nudity; dwelt curiously upon the red brand across Ventnor's forehead.
In his eyes and in Drake's I saw reflected the horror I knew was in my own.

But in the eyes of Ruth was none of this--sternly, coldly triumphant, indifferent to its piteousness as Norhala herself, she scanned the waste that less than an hour since had been a place of living beauty.
I felt a shock of repulsion.

After all, those who had been destroyed so ruthlessly could not ALL have been wholly evil.

Yet mother and blossoming maid, youth and oldster, all the pageant of humanity within the great walls were now but lines within the stone.

According to their different lights, it came to me, there had been in Ruszark no greater number of the wicked than one could find in any great city of our own civilization.
From Norhala, of course, I looked for no perception of any of this.