” She slipped it on her finger, and added, in a voice she tried to make matter-of-fact: “It was given to me last week. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss. And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. In truth, she had been quite glad to lose the argument about remaining while the bullet was dug out of Jack’s side. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home. . 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left.
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