" "Impossible, Sir," replied Ireton, greatly alarmed. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. Though Gerald must suppose it was inevitable she should eventually come here. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. But tell me one thing I don’t understand—tell me one thing: How can you help it by coming down into the battle and the mire? That’s the thing that concerns me. I was—I was a corespondent. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. F. “I had found her at last, and she shot me. I’m a man, and I know what I mean. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting.
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