She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald. Tell her, that more than once, when about to commit some desperate offence, I have been restrained by her gentle image. ’ Gerald eyed her. She despises me, I suppose. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. "Let me go," cried Winifred.
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