She had meant to
induce him to offer to defray the whole of her expenses in Llandudno--no
doubt in the form of a loan; and she had failed. She had intended him to
repair the disaster caused by her chronic extravagance. And he had only
said: "What a pity!"
"Yes, it is!" she agreed bravely, and with a finer disdain than ever of
petty financial troubles. "Still, it can't be helped."
"No, I suppose not," said Denry.
There was undoubtedly something fine about Ruth. In that moment she had
it in her to kill Denry with a bodkin. But she merely smiled. The
situation was terribly strained, past all Denry's previous conceptions
of a strained situation; but she deviated with superlative
_sang-froid_ into frothy small talk. A proud and an unconquerable
woman! After all, what were men for, if not to pay?
"I think I shall go home to-night," she said, after the excursion into
prattle.
"I'm sorry," said Denry.
He was not coming out of his castle.
At that moment a hand touched his shoulder. It was the hand of Cregeen,
the owner of the old lifeboat.
"Mister," said Cregeen, too absorbed in his own welfare to notice Ruth.
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