” With a murmured word of excuse she glided away, and Courtlaw, who had come with a mission which seemed to him to be one of life or death, was left to listen to the latest art jargon from Chelsea. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. Oh, yes; of Ruth herself he knew much; but the more he mulled over what he knew, the deeper grew his chagrin. Earles closed the piano with a little bang. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.
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