It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow that Mrs. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. . Still he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of one well-to-do in the world. "You read it, Ruth. . But that is men all over. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. He lost control of the machine, was upset and nearly killed. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood.
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