The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. “Where are they?” She looked around. ” “Don’t let there be any more. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. My business is with Lady Trafford. ” The man smiled at him. She was trembling a little. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple.
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