’ *** Gerald Alderley stepped out of a house he had been visiting in Hamilton Place and the door closed behind him. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. I beg that you will consider me your friend. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. He was not, in truth, much of a ladies’ man. She would ignore him. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. I think you’re wrong. It had been a part of the vast domain of the servants in the house’s earlier incarnation. She lied.
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