" "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. Before you go I'll give you a list of books to read. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill.
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