She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. works. The sight of the thief-taker increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself.
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