I suppose I ought to have been a man. She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. “What are you doing?” he asked. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. . "'T is he!" he mentally ejaculated. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you.
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