" "What's the matter, Ruth?" asked Spurlock, anxiously. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Yet I shall think of you to-day. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ” “Change that to most, at least from my experience. She read for half an hour, then closed the book because Spurlock appeared to have fallen asleep. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. "Hope to.
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