She said she hoped she had not distressed him by the course she had felt obliged to take, and he told her not to be a fool. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. Did he talk a little when you took him into the city?" "No. Wood, furiously. I am up to the ears in it all— every moment I can spare.
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