Ruth?" "Why the devil not? Why do you suppose she married you if she didn't love you? While you read I watched her face. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. My heart misgives me.
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