But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. "You mistake,—you are mine. " Then he looked at Ruth. He understood. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader. The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. . ’ ‘Ah, that was an affair altogether different,’ she explained and fluttered her long lashes at him. “I am afraid your broken dinner engagement will not be so easy to explain.
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