‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. When ninety per cent. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. “You go home,” he said, at parting; “you go home. ‘Gone!’ he said. His smile faded. It will be horribly dull, and she is a very trying person. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. She then dried her eyes, and laying her child gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him.
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