There was still in his heart that fierce anger which demands physical expression; but he had to consider Ruth in all phases. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. He reached for her and she stroked his head soothingly as his mother had done a few times when he had suffered bad fevers. “You are my friend,” she said, “if any one is. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. ” “And leave you here alone?” he asked, in a hoarse whisper. She must kill this man, or kill herself. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think.
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