The stairs creaked as Mark rushed down them. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. " "Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope," interposed Sheppard. “I told you I did not love you. A radiant smile astonished him. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy.
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