"I wanted you to know. She expanded that. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. "I must tell you," she was saying. " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker. One would think I had agreed to her going. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success. She was too late. I want to fill it with fine and precious things. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are.
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