They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. ” He looked at her pleadingly. As soon as she reached this spot, Wild sprang ashore, and was joined by several persons, —among whom was Quilt Arnold, leading a horse by the bridle,—he hastened down the stairs to meet him. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. It shall be your wedding ring. My feelings overpower me. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed.
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