So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. ” “By God!” said Manning, making the most of the word, “I suppose it’s fate. Brown. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. No, not one little bit. ” “I suppose so. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room.
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