” She glanced into his blue eyes wearily. I hate what I am. It was equally as beautiful but not quite so fine as the daughter's. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ” An awkward moment of silence followed. Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. " Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly.
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