He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. He tried again. okay. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. The strong fingers of one hand secured both her wrists there, and Melusine found herself chest to chest with him as he threw off his hat, and began to pat at her petticoat, searching for tell-tale protrusions. It now occurred to him that she had always been fully dressed. It slipped out—as did that “she”. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her.
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