"It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan," said Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes filled with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have done for you. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. For Ruth grew lovelier as the days went on. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. "I don't know. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple.
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