Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. He tired of his popcorn and placed it under his seat. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. ’ ‘Very true. And you think I would marry you?’ ‘Why not? I am unworthy, eh? Because I am a servant.
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