When the hero finally did appear, Ruth became filled with gentle self-mockery. Their conversation hung. ’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. I asked him to take me away, and hide me. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. Later, there will be fever, after I've got his heart pumping. It was explosive and gratifying.
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