His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. All four people moved a little nervously into the drawing-room, maintaining a sort of fluttered amiability of sound and movement. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. " So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat.
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