"So you did," replied the prize-fighter. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. Fast asleep, he is. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. She felt smaller and more adventurous even than she had expected to feel. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. F. “Indeed, no,” he answered. Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her. “You love some one else?” he repeated.
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