“I believe so. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. It is always on his person. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. ” He said. ” “You know all?” “Your sister has told me. Alors, one must steel oneself. ” He released her hand and talked in eager undertones against an auditory background of urgency and distress.
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