“I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. It was well for him that he had taken his place by Sheppard, as regard for the latter alone prevented the deadliest missiles being hurled at him. But her husband, whose deportment to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid no attention whatever to her grief. “No thanks. She came to me in a dream. From the opposite corner under the trees a man with his hat slouched over his eyes stood and glowered at them.
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