She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day. I think I asked if I could eat lunch with her and Trisha Deere one day and she said there was no room at the table. "I took you for one who wouldn't hesitate to avail himself of any advantage chance might throw in his way," returned the thief-taker, coldly. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. “This is Mr. Kneebone made no effort to check the unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather seemed to encourage it. She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates.
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