She had been in the drawing-room for a few minutes before the gong had sounded, and had chattered gaily to every one. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. I shall have to discover one suitable. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. . She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. Think better of it. His face fell. The action did not pass unnoticed by Sheppard.
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