Spurlock went, it would not be far enough. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. Neither your aunt nor I have any other thought but what is best for you. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. Yet there was nothing for her to do. It was painted in the early seventeenth century by a minor artist named DuPre. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie.
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