As Spurlock called her name, she paused and turned. " "What did I say?" "Only one word," she said, offering her first white lie. Ramage. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. " "Perhaps I'm too tired to plan for to-morrow. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. A curious silence ensued. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship.
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