At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. The female’s words caught at his attention, and he no longer heard what the young Poussaint girl was saying to him. . Charcoal. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. Nobody who cared. “Garçon,” he said, “will you ask the gentleman at the next table if he will do me the honour of taking a glass of wine with me.
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