His voice had broken. His blood would be sweet with it. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. Manning might go on now idealizing her as much as he liked. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. Now I am sorry to cross you in anything you have set your heart upon, but I regret to say—” “H’m,” he reflected, and crossed out the last four words. One day a pall of blackness encompassed the sick mind of the giant; and when he came to his senses, they properly functioned: and he saw his wife by his bedside! An astonishing idea entered Ruth's head one day—when the novel was complete in the rough—an astonishing idea because it had not developed long ago. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know.
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