A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like enough. There’s sure to be a place somewhere. Some day I shall come back, and I will show you on canvas the things which have come to me up here amongst the eternal silence. Young noblemen ought to be indulged in their frolics. ‘I can take care of myself, bête.
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