"If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. . By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. Silly woman!. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. And, thrusting a piece of iron into his mouth, he forced him out of the room. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. ” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again.
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