But when she was thinking it over in her room that evening vague and baffling doubts came drifting across this conviction. “Is it your maid?” he asked. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. ’ The lad Kimble moved swiftly to the door and walked out of the room. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. “Do you know, I have been wondering what had become of you,” she said. I thought he was in Newgate. I asked him—to take me away. . “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time,—Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on.
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