Madame shrugged. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. ’ The lady frowned suspiciously. ‘Do not be imbecile. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. "Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; "we've run all the way. "Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. It’s all outside the world of your experience. " "Peace!" retorted Jack, with increased bitterness.
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