“You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of the bells of Newgate and St. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. But if she smiled at all it was with her eyes. Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him God-speed and good luck. On this second excursion, forewarned, she would use no light and keep as quiet as a mouse, she vowed, and thus refrain from attracting the attention of the militia at the gates.
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