"And me," added Mrs. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. “I believed that he was the great multi-millionaire. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. I tore the marriage certificate from his pocket and burnt it. “I am off to-night,” he said. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. Can't I make you see?" "But I'm telling you Ruth loves you. ” “Your husband,” he answered bluntly. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. "Aha!" exclaimed Jackson.
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