" "Peace, fool!" cried Marvel, angrily. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. ” “I positively insist upon knowing,” she declared cheerfully. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. What a heat that news had wrought. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages.
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