You have neither reason nor logic. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. But I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition—" "You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands on me again. He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. He felt his heart beat faster and faster—his self-restraint slipping away. ‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter.
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