Sheppard. 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. She turned with an effort. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. They don’t now. Wood. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely.
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