He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. . "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. S. ” “Anything except that,” he murmured. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly.
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