Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. But they did not know how good she was, how perfect she was. 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. "Your sympathy is being wasted. She was a small blonde, not handsome, but with a flair for fashion demonstrated by her elegant chemise gown in the very latest Canterbury muslin, with its low décolletage barely concealed under a fine lawn handkerchief set about her shoulders, and decorated with a mauve satin sash at the waist. She smiled at the sight of him, and thereat his radiation increased. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman.
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