“Yeah, I know. Sheppard. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. Sheppard, with a faint smile and a doubtful shake of the head, as Wood drew her to a seat beside him, "for I've had my full share of misery. She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive.
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