—Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. And don’t tell me what you’ve been up to, dashing off to Remenham House with that Kimble lad, and Lord knows what besides, because I don’t want to know. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. Miss Charvill.
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