Anna crossed the street, and letting herself in at No. " "A novelist?" cried Ruth, thrilling. Every one turned to her in astonishment. And with his daughter?’ ‘He wrote to Jarvis from an inn in France, saying that he had married Mademoiselle Valade, and that his baby naturally belonged with her father. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. The Leads 405 XXI. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house. Another long interval elapsed.
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