. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. In all these weeks she had not once knelt to pray. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. I don’t care what divides us. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. She knew that I cared for her, she had admitted that she cared for me. . I'll stamp twice when we've done.
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