But one changes the style of one's clothes yearly. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. . . A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away.
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