For a long time she surveyed a row of towering holly-hocks, as though they offered an explanation. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. “I think that I shall be the most unpopular man in London. "Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't suit my purposes to do so?" "He says right," replied Mrs. Nothing else matters. ‘You see, unlike you, mademoiselle, your cavalier here would not wish to be arrested. ‘I kissed you once, didn’t I?’ Her pulses jumped and she stared. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands.
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