"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed. I want to get away—to go to London. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. My father has made every possible inquiry, and offered large rewards; but has not been able to discover the slightest trace of him. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears.
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