Ennison looked down on him in disgust. He hated himself a little for it. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. ‘Point it at me. You hurt the child. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work.
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