” She laughed. CHAPTER XVII. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ’ ‘The Frenchie? I only knows as how Miss says he will ruin everything. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. ‘I dare say the best plan will be for me to bring her to see you, after all. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. Ask your own conscience.
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