The news that his granddaughter desired an audience Lord Charvill had greeted with merely a grunt, which turned into a roar as his gorge rose when he heard that she was accompanied by her husband. ‘Very well, Kimble. A quarter of an hour passed. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. She had never experienced anything so disagreeable in her life as the sense of being held helplessly off her feet. She tried not to blush. . He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. ‘She’s gone. I went to her rooms to-night. Death belongs to God, young man. Their flitting hands were always touching. Howsomdever, if you should reach t'other side, take an old feller's advice, and don't be foolhardy enough to venter back again.
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