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" The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. She winked at him as he shut the door. “So you still think of me as husband, even though we have long since tired of each other. "It is droll," he said. I must go and dress at once. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know.
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