He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough. I must see if I have a gown fit to wear. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. Afterward goes on to Oxford. A bad one in a rough-and-tumble; all the water-front tricks.
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