Loving was better than that. The Ragged Edge. " "For a bit of kindness?" Ruth was plainly bewildered. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. . She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously. She forced herself not to think of John. She was nude and horribly maimed.
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