They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. The challenge gave her courage. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. "Choose between good and evil;— between him and me. " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. You’re neither of you any longer under arrest.
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