"You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. The oaken beam, nine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most formidable obstacle to his flight. "Try fifty pounds more," said Jonathan. He did not love Ruth.
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