Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. . ’ ‘Yes, but if it is only we that know, it is of no use at all to me. A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. " So saying, he slung it upon his wrist. She wanted to come, and I wouldn't let her. Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. ” “You are very kind,” Anna said. Drawing the pay of life and then not living.
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