So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. He was indeed still in the throes of his bewilderment. She tried not to blush. Do you think he'll pay it?" "I'm sure of it," replied Austin. They took their places at a distant table. " Ruth did so, but without any particular fervour. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers.
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