To be sure, he was attentive, respectful; but in his conduct there was none of that shameless camaraderie of a man who loved his woman and didn't care a hang if all the world knew it. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. "Who are you?" inquired Mrs. But one could not count with any confidence upon Capes.
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