Only a book detective could dope this out. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. Smith's solitary orb followed in the same direction. She was too late. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. “I wonder,” she murmured to herself, “if this is the beginning. But what else he saw fit to teach her I do not care to stipulate. “To think that you were going to do it—and never said a word! You are a little thin, but except for that you look—you look better than ever. Sheppard, falling on her knees. “He’s got good taste, you know. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s.
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