“I never dreamt!” she said. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. One of her duties, after she had been taught to read, had been to read aloud after breakfast and before going to bed. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. . What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. “I wonder what you could do?” he said. Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard.
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