“It is a great art,” she said in broken English. Lucy was filled with happiness, it was her third Christmas at the Becks. I don’t quite know why. ’ ‘Then who is this Englishman?’ demanded Gerald on a sceptical note. At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer of dawn became visible through the barred casements of the round-house, the rattling of bolts and chains at the outer door told that some one was admitted. ‘Of course the fellow has doubtless stayed put to wait for you,’ retorted Hilary. He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration.
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