But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. Voilà tout. She knew now the supreme human energy which sent men to hell or carried them to their earthly heights. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. ‘Never. White——” “No more,” Sydney Courtlaw begged, laughingly.
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