"Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. Directly in range stood the strange young man, although he was at the far side of the loft. The Dawn Pearl; how well they had named her! The pearl without price—his and not his! He took her arm and drew it under his; and together they went down the veranda steps. Though encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified. ” She dropped back into a crouching attitude and began to weep. Through no fault of her own. “But if you had?” she said.
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