That would be an unkind twist of fate. He believed me when I asked him to marry me. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. Ann Veronica tried to seem absolutely unconcerned. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. See paragraph 1. This is altogether insupportable.
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