“That sounds quite absurd,” she answered. She had found him! Excitement welled. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Jonathan, however, still lingered. It was Ennison, who loomed up through the shadows. Eh? Banging against the old rollers—that'll put some life into us both. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. “Why don’t you wear your white blouse more often? It is the prettiest shirt you own.
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