Suddenly he felt Ruth swing violently away from him, and he wheeled to learn the cause. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. The attempt was unsuccessful. After all, it was really rather funny. He jumped out of his own side once again and ran around the car to open hers in another theatrical display of chivalry. The sky periodically pummeled her with hail pellets as she would pass through the deserted intersections. His most eager inquiries and most lavish bribes could gain no further information than that she had left for England, and that her address was—London. "I can't help thinking of it, Sir," answered the widow. A hollow feeling opened up inside her, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. "I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please.
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