" "I expect no commiseration," returned Mrs. ” Her mind went back to that treaty. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. All right. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. The windows were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter who stood at the gate, habited like a jailer, with his huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding countenance and surly demeanour seemed to be borrowed from Newgate. They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely. Gerald caught the look and slipped the weapon into his pocket. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him.
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