I hate what I am. ” “You mean—you think——” “Hush! I think that he was concealed in my room, and Annabel and he met there. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. He did not come out of his chloroform coma and sailed weakly to his death. "At length, my vengeance is complete. "You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. We'll get this chap on his feet if only to learn what the trouble is.
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