He should never sufficiently be able to regret the return which they had made to her. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. As they entered the room beyond, a fierce growl was heard. “Okay. He fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking over head,—that the arch was tumbling upon him,—that the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off, and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. But, finding the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that way. CHAPTER IX.
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