The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. She would have been amazed if John was even aware of any one of the incidents. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. I'm going to be frank; we must have a clear understanding. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. “I have given it up,” she answered. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. . ’ She saw suspicion darken his gaze.
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