"What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. "What is your name?" "Ruth. Let us proceed with our tale. " "Nothing else?" "No. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. “I gave your name. Her husband was prouder of her every day. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought.
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