She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. He smiled inwardly. For a time she promenaded the room. Ill-drawn, without method or sense of proportion, you have put wonderful things on to canvas, have drawn them out of yourself, notwithstanding your mechanical inefficiency. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. ” She caressed his cheek seductively with her left palm and he closed his eyes in dreamy anticipation. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she panted, shifting wildly in his hold, so that he had all to do to keep her thus imprisoned. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. But they found him on the veranda when they returned from McClintock's that evening.
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