If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. “You belong to me,” he said fiercely; “the marriage certificate is in my pocket. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. He, next, tried to clamber up the flying buttresses and soffits of the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the windows and other apertures with which, as a man-of-war is studded with port-holes, the sides of the bridge were pierced. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live.
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