For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. "I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other; "but, may I ask whether Mr. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. “Don’t think that I have been playing the spy upon you,” he continued. He knew that tragedy was as blind as justice, that it struck the child and the grown-up impartially. "To shoot you would be to lose the reward.
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