Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets.
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