"I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack. His hands were exploring her once again in the car. I don’t know anyone. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. "You read it, Ruth. He could think about it later. You love Ennison. . "It is easy to make an assertion like this," said Thames, contemptuously. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure.
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