That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. The calvacade was now put slowly in motion. 9. ‘Could she have been a spy, after all?’ ‘Oh, she’s not a spy,’ Gerald answered, almost absently. Here's a nosegay for you, my love," she continued, opening her basket, and presenting a fragrant bunch of flowers to Winifred, "if your mother will allow me to give it you. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place.
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