Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. " CHAPTER VI. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. Yet you knew that I was not dead. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. “In Paris.
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