CHAPTER LIV
THE BROOKS
Ruth was standing on the bank opposite him, but she had turned her back upon him and the river.
He saw the heave of her shoulders, and the motion of her head, and knew that she was weeping.
In a second he had flung himself into the water and was wading towards her.
She turned at the sound of his surging, expecting fresh enemies, and prepared for them.
He stood in mid-stream, a picturesque and dishevelled figure, grimy with coal-dust, collarless, touzle-headed, his greasy overall braced above his waistcoat.
"Ruth!" he called uncertainly.
She stood on the bank among the willows and looked down on him.
He ducked his face in the stream, and washed away the coal-dust.