"Here," repeated her brother. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. She had heard the trader utter it many times. The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. “I could not have stayed in Paris and waited for news. ” “How dull you are,” the lady remarked.
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