Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. A door slammed. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. . The turnkey looked round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it.
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