His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. He saw what he had done only as it related to Ruth. The sunshine broke across each shoulder, one lance striking the yellow face of a Chinaman, queueless and dressed in European clothes, the other lance falling squarely upon the face of the man he had journeyed thirteen thousand miles to find.
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