General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. "Because you did not wish to hurt me?" "Yes. As he turned the handle, it moved, and the door was taken from his hand and pulled outward by the young footman. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. ‘I am nine-and-twenty,’ he answered. You're luck. . So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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