" "Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within. If the boy did not love the girl, why the devil had he dragged her into this marriage? Spurlock was a bit shaky bodily, but his brain was functioning clearly; and, it might be added, swiftly—as the brain always acts when confronted by a perplexing riddle. “Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. Yet the thing hidden within her called and called. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.
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