"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. " The cost of the building exceeded seventeen thousand pounds. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her.
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