The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. “These are for you. You can do it, if you will. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to. The room was reeling, or was it that she was going to faint? She recovered herself with a supreme effort. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face.
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