" "Can I trust him?" mused Jack. Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. "I've known him all my life," replied the other. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. I’m glad the old sore is assuaged. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated.
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