" "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. She put a hand to the lad’s cold cheek and choked on a sob. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest. An unhappy little sigh escaped her. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude.
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