A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. She was as pale as death, but she seemed to have lost the power of movement. Do you know, Annabel, that you are my wife. ‘No, I do not go back. ‘It must be painful.
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