" He patted her hand. She pointed. It was his purpose to complete four or five stories before he sent any away. It is no fault of your own that you are not at this moment standing there with your head blown off. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. "I had a terrible dream last night. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes.
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