I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. "Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps, I may never have another opportunity.
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