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“There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. The poor boy, wanting his empty coat! The incident, however, caused her to review the recent events. He glanced at Ruth (who had stood with her back to the wall, pinned there throughout the contest by terror and the knowledge of her own helplessness), then at the bronze menace, and calculated correctly that this particular adventure was finished. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. While the strife raged between the principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were occupied in stemming the force of the torrent, and endeavouring to keep the boats, they had lashed together, stationary. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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