’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. . He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. " "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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