" "Too proud, eh?" rejoined the prize-fighter. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. She was greatly exercised by the problem of confiding in the Widgetts; they were dears, and she talked away two evenings with Constance without broaching the topic; she made some vague intimations in letters to Miss Miniver that Miss Miniver failed to mark. He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs.
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