He would follow me there; and I could talk over what I had better do, with the three best friends I have in the world--the only friends I have." She put on her bonnet, and opened the parlour-door; but then she saw the square figure of the landlord standing at the open house-door, smoking his evening pipe, and looming large and distinct against the dark air and landscape beyond.

Ruth remembered the cup of tea that she had drank; it must be paid for, and she had no money with her.
She feared that he would not let her quit the house without paying.
She thought that she would leave a note for Mr Bellingham, saying where she was gone, and how she had left the house in debt, for (like a child) all dilemmas appeared of equal magnitude to her; and the difficulty of passing the landlord while he stood there, and of giving him an explanation of the circumstances (as far as such explanation was due to him), appeared insuperable, and as awkward, and fraught with inconvenience, as far more serious situations.
She kept peeping out of her room, after she had written her little pencil-note, to see if the outer door was still obstructed.

There he stood, motionless, enjoying his pipe, and looking out into the darkness which gathered thick with the coming night.

The fumes of the tobacco were carried by the air into the house, and brought back Ruth's sick headache.

Her energy left her; she became stupid and languid, and incapable of spirited exertion; she modified her plan of action, to the determination of asking Mr Bellingham to take her to Milham Grange, to the care of her humble friends, instead of to London.