Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. CHAPTER XXVIII. Seems you were right about Valade. Let me keep you from that man’s clutches. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Chapter XXIV A CASE FOR THE POLICE After that first horrible moment it was perhaps Anna who was the more selfpossessed. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. "And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it that you had the same care, the same chance. "No Blueskin, I perceive, Sir," he observed, in a deferential tone, as Wild entered the Lodge.
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