Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Thus, all her interest in life began to centre upon the patient, who was apparently quite as anchorless as she was. We should not bar any engagements at private houses, but in other respects the arrangement must be exclusive. " "That's right, Captain," rejoined Blueskin. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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