Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. It is true that I do not love Ruth; but I swear to you, before the God of my fathers, that she shall never know it!" "I'll be getting along. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. "Put about, waterman, for God's sake!" cried Wood, whose humanity got the better of every personal consideration; "some one is overboard. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed.
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