Wood. There is a place—This isn’t the place. She laughed a little contemptuously. Nothing but the constraint of social usage now linked him to her. But for Ruth, he, Howard Spurlock, might have ended upon the beach, inescapably damned. Surely he was imagining this picture. Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. “It is the first moment we have let him out of our sight,” Brendon exclaimed, as he hastened across the street. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. “Is your husband here to-night?” he asked.
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