” He was silent for a moment or two. “That is very nice of you,” she said. " "And partly what else?" "I shall never tell anybody that. " "Bah!" ejaculated Marvel, gruffly. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils. “But how can you?” asked Constance. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said.
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