] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. “I don’t know why. I’ve been on the watch for you. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. Every word you utter puzzles me. "I beg pardon," he said. Their flitting hands were always touching. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild.
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