"Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. They were sure to catch up with her. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it into a new self. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. “I don’t think she quite sees the harm of those people or the sort of life to which they would draw her,” she said. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin.
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