Very dark, like yours, ma’am. . 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. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. You see, it is that I begin to like you, even that you are of this disposition extremely interfering. . The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears.
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