CHAPTER VI Sidney Carton, thought Ruth, in pursuit of a sing-song girl! The idea was so incongruous that a cold little smile parted her lips. It was an overcast day, albeit not foggy, and the electric light shades glowed warmly, and an Italian waiter with insufficient English took Ramage’s orders, and waited with an appearance of affection. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. Why? If she had put the query to herself, she could not have answered it. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had.
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