You will be—my wife. " Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. Now He has taken that out and given it form and beauty—you!" "Wonderful hand!" Ruth seized his right hand and kissed it. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. Mr. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning.
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