“Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. He parried without apparent effort. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. "We'll see," returned the thief-taker.
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