He misstated her age and address; but you can’t get home on him for a thing like that. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. Her stifled misery had betrayed her. You'll live to hate chicken; and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. "I was afraid it would be so. He reached out a hand gropingly, sagged, and toppled out of the chair to the floor, where he lay very still. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it.
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