The unequal battle went on. ” “I am afraid I have not been very nice,” she said sadly. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. ” She said. But, after all, it will be different. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was.
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