"Now, Mr. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. She knew the truth of it all right. His arms slipped around her waist as they were on the doorstep and he kissed her lips sweetly. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. “I will believe you. Ramage,” she said, “I can’t—Not now. ” But the ring, and her aunt’s triumphant eye, and a note of approval in her father’s manner, and a novel disposition in him to praise Manning in a just, impartial voice had soon placed very definite qualifications upon that covenanted secrecy. Gosse had to release his clamp on her mouth, for the awkwardness of the position made it impossible to negotiate the little stair.
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