168 < 20 > HISTORY OF AN ABDUCTION She had not seen him for hundreds of years. ’ Gerald laughed. A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. ” “You! Why, you have been an angel to her,” he exclaimed impatiently. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. Mrs. Wood," observed Jackson, in a slightly-sarcastic tone. Thank him, not me, man. " "But I never told you how the natives fished.
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