“But your hair,” he gasped. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed. And, also, she wanted to borrow that money. “Let me know the truth. I fight. She contrived to break down the barriers of shyness at last in one direction, and talked one night of love and the facts of love with Miss Miniver. “Stop! Don’t put your face there.
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