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‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. She pawed at him, her hunger for his body making her dizzy with anticipation. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. As Gosse pushed her around it, she felt his hold about her of necessity loosen slightly. I’m sorry. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree.
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