Sir John looked about him, and somehow the laugh died away. They cannot imagine the discomforts involved, and they see only mystery in your fight to recover your lost heritage. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. I want to make myself visible to you. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out. "Hands off!" she exclaimed, "or you'll repent it.
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