Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. There was no response. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. The venturous climber gazed for a moment at the assemblage beneath, to ascertain that he was not discovered; and, having satisfied himself in this particular, he stepped out more boldly. For a few days she was fascinated by the place, exploring the moldy rooms, the weird treasures hiding in forgotten trousseaus. " "You are right," replied Darrell; "the weakness is past. “This,” he exclaimed, “must be either the indifference of an utterly callous nature, or it may be—ye gods, it may be—innocence.
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