Just as he was about to drain it, he encountered the basilisk glance of Jonathan Wild, and paused. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. “It is a hateful story. “May I hear?” “It really isn’t much to tell,” Drummond answered. There came to Spurlock the recurrence of the grim resolution of what he had set out to do: that comradeship was all he might ever give this exquisite creature; for she was exquisite, and in a way she dominated this picture of sea and sky and sail. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. On examining his pockets, he found about twenty guineas in gold, and some silver. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. ‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own temper, ma’am.
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