She laughed altogether in her old manner. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. ” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. ” “It’s wonderful.
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