They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese. ‘And so?’ she asked. The open windows were above them now and, unless the intruder were to lean out, they could not possibly be seen. He might go on as the devoted lover until he tired. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. Morningside Park had been passive and defective; all this rushed about and was active, but it was still defective. Saviour's Church. She could tell that he probably wanted to kiss her, but she did not act upon the opportunity. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. ’ ‘Like your father,’ Gerald put in deliberately. One day a pall of blackness encompassed the sick mind of the giant; and when he came to his senses, they properly functioned: and he saw his wife by his bedside! An astonishing idea entered Ruth's head one day—when the novel was complete in the rough—an astonishing idea because it had not developed long ago. CHAPTER XXIII.
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