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. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. Her mother did not seem to like the new doctor at all, shunning him with a near superstitious dread. “I heard your voices, and the hall is draughty. “Thanks, Cathy. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. It was 1582. Smith, "upon my conscience. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence.
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