None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. " "You are an angel, I say," continued the poor maniac; "and my Jack would have been like you, if he had lived. " That was true, thought Spurlock. ” He awoke. She remained on guard. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. Her unnatural calm was giving way. "Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments, "what say you?—silence gives consent, eh?" Mrs.
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