It rubbed across the weals on Ruth's back, and was torture. She clenched her teeth, while tears—tears of physical anguish, irrepressible—over-brimmed her lashes and fell uncounted in the darkness.
"You are crying. Why? I like you." The child's voice trailed off into dream.
"Closer!" whispered Ruth, and would have forced the embrace upon her pain; but it relaxed. Dicky's head fell sideways, and rested, angled between the cushions and her shoulder.
She sat wide-eyed, staring into folds of darkness, while the coach rolled forward smoothly towards the dawn.
BOOK II.
PROBATION.
Chapter I.
AFTER TWO YEARS.
"Come down and play!"
Ruth, looking down from the open lattice, smiled and shook her head.
"I must not; I'm doing my lessons."