Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. By the by, Mr. Suddenly she had become afraid. There was more shouting. “You ought at once—you ought at once to have told her that. Explain to Sir John our feelings. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. "Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. I went to the theatre that night. He had to know the truth, Melusine.
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