’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him. On the way he confessed. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. White?” she asked, laughing. Is there anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and found it without fever. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. He had absorbed her in a single glance, and was now defining her as he worked. “I am off to-night,” he said. ” “We’ll have, thank God! ten myriad days to tell each other things.
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