You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. “But Sir John?” he exclaimed. He smiled at Ruth as she turned away from the bed, smiled with both his mouth and eyes; and she knew that here would be a man of heart as well as of science. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure.
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