After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. It’s Italian. My father was Colonel Pellissier. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. Except for a few early ebullitions of passion, natural to a warm and romantic disposition, and leaving no harmful after-effects—ebullitions that by the standards of the higher truth I feel no one can justly cast a stone at, and of which I for one am by no means ashamed—I come to you a pure and unencumbered man. And when there is no longer any need to use it, why then, enough you say—and throw it away. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. “You seem to be taking our little joke more seriously than it deserves, Ferringhall,” he remarked.
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