Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. There he stands. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it.
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