The boy she had loved was gone. Mother and Son XI. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. I hear they are very much affected by the tragedies of their neighbours in France. One day a pall of blackness encompassed the sick mind of the giant; and when he came to his senses, they properly functioned: and he saw his wife by his bedside! An astonishing idea entered Ruth's head one day—when the novel was complete in the rough—an astonishing idea because it had not developed long ago. ’ The lady sighed and spread her hands. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait.
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