"Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. "You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. The gentleman catched him i' th' fact, and we shut him up for safety i' that pris'n. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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