He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. It really isn’t so easy to go as it seems. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine. “Oh, it is okay. Then she would be dead, and that was no use. If there was a Yankee bar-keep in HongKong, James Boyle would soon locate him.
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