" He departed, musing. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. I struck him across the face, twisted the steering wheel of the motor, sprang out myself, and left him for dead on the road with the motor on top of him. Anna turned deliberately away from the bedside. He wanted her named Mary. " "Have you told him so?" she inquired, reproachfully. Had Valade been to see him? Possibly even yesterday when he was followed by some young lad—and the girl, of course.
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