The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Hurry to me, I entreat you. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. He saw her eyes pass him and settle on a fleetingly pretty strawberry blond girl and her effeminate father.
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