" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. They are things faint and slight in themselves, as physical facts, but they are like the detonator of a bomb: they let loose the explosive. "Stop thief!" clamoured the rabble behind. ” She stared hard at her finger-nails. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other.
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