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Jonathan had to feel his way. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. “It’s settled. I worship you. "Ruth?" Silence for a moment. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. " CHAPTER IV.
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