He closed the door. . "Ruth?" he called. I have only just left Wych Street. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. That for you!" And she snapped her fingers in his face. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. This too shall pass. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. unless a copyright notice is included.
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