” “Well”—her breath failed her for a moment. ” He took a seat by her side. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Lives by his wits and gambling. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. Almost at once she had comprehended that she was expected to write down her name and address, which she did, in slanting cobwebby lettering, perhaps a trifle laboriously. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. I shan't drive a hard bargain. The aunt laughed.
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