CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls. “Most of it is ugly and frowsy,” she declared, “but it isn’t worth talking about. ‘I trust you are cursing Valade, and not Melusine. I can’t tell anyone certain things about my life. Let me bind you up, and then you can attend to her. "Jack!" she cried, raising her head. But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened.
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