She left them and went back to Sebastian, never uttering a word about her visit. Aware of the cunning and desperate characters of the persons with whom she would have to deal,—aware, also, that she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute necessity of caution. Your aunt liked the pheasant. Sheppard. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. But at this, he halted, turning his frowning gaze back on her. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. I am the cause of his ill-usage.
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