"You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. It was the beginning and the end of the transaction. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. Wood. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. A cup of lies. He had hurt her. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. But she could not live in constant association with him without having these gaps filled. ‘Come, I am concerned merely for your safety, you know.
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