Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. She listened with growing apprehension to the tale that Gerald told, omitting any mention of pistols and daggers, and at the end delivered herself of various expletives highly unsuited to a lady of her advanced years. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. " "They are useless," she returned.
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