It was a letter. "Come down stairs directly, and let your mother look at your wrist. At any rate, I can see that you’re not protecting him at all. I have been around them for long enough. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. He savored the last solo, the coda. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun. All these experiences have taught me a great deal about life and realities. . She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. 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.
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