The Rev. ” She paused. The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. She had looked forward to an explanation. No, none at all. They were silent for a time. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. Here was the corner-stone of a capital story; but he knew that Howard Spurlock would never write it. Neither would she allow herself to feel guilty nor would she allow him to find a way into the house. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do. Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there.
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