I had a perfect shoal of callers. "I have been very unhappy. We are expecting a visit from Sir John Ferringhall at any moment. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. "What in the world is it?" he asked. "You are all right?"—anxiously. To Capes he was almost deferential, and she had never seen him deferential in the old time, never. “What do you mean, hanging round with my wife?” he answered fiercely. Besides, I acted for others, and not for myself.
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