That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. “So you found Rhea, I see. ‘Jacques!’ She got no further, for Kimble came towards her, speaking fast and low. ” There was a shout of laughter. . ” He paused for a time. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. “YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. It throbs cruelly. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. That would not help her.
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