Good words, without deeds, are rushes and reeds. But it looked as if the boy was not going to be of much use. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. A time may come,—and that ere long,—when you will be glad to purchase my secrets, and your own safety, at a dearer price than the heads of your companions. CHAPTER XIV Ruth lost the point entirely. “No, he grabbed my hand. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living.
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