175 “Before you tell me the whole story,” she emphasized the penultimate word, “just let me do something for you. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. “Our ways happened to lie together. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it.
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