"Why do you laugh?" she asked gravely. "Noblemen. We have to hang about in the interval. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. \" 66 She commented as more doors slammed. You might even tire of me by then, you know. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read.
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