"You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned the other, with a grim smile. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. He was entranced as she walked towards him. Poor young lady! She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. I am safe while I am there, for I have had bolts fitted everywhere, and a pane of glass in the front door. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. " Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. ‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald.
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