‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. I have—run away. 1. ‘You don’t mean to say she’s here?’ ‘Was,’ Gerald corrected. From where had he come, and why? An author! To her he would be no less interesting because he was unsuccessful. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. It was apparent, and then it faded into the quality of an inevitable necessity.
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