CHAPTER XXI. Ruth hugged the envelope and McClintock, with the end of a burnt match, drew a cabalistic sign. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. “It is possible,” Courtlaw said, “that you too were deceived. In nearly every speech she heard was the same implication of great and necessary changes in the world—changes to be won by effort and sacrifice indeed, but surely to be won. She gloried in it: he needed her. I shan't let you off a farthing. You have taken my dagger. I might forgive him that, for he obviously taught her a good deal that she has found useful.
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