"Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Either she had been seen, or they were seeking the air. " "A white wall is a fool's paper, Jack,—remember that," rejoined Wood. No doubt they've all been rejected; but he couldn't throw them overboard. She had never been there before at that hour, in that light, and it seemed to her as if she came to it all for the first time. While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. Miss Mary being his only child ’an all, he were in a right pelter. That’s really what I want to discuss.
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