She had never been "My child" or "My dear"; always her name—Ruth. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. And where was that devil? Had the soldiers found him? She could not think he had escaped, for she had only just made it into the passage as they entered the library. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff.
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