Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Anna watched her from the windows, watched the carriage jolt away along the cobbled street and disappear. A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. "Not I," replied Blueskin. But that, and that sort of thing, is just a day-dream. His figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his recent exertion) was resolute and stern. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside.
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