" Ruth repeated the word, not in the effect of a query, but ruminantly. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. The newcomer stopped short upon the threshold. “It’s your birthday today, May Day. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. " No sooner had Wood crept through the window, than nature gave way, and he fainted. She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. Whence had she come: whither was she bound? A temporary congestion in the street held up the caravan for a spell; and Ah Cum looked backward to note if any of the party had become separated.
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