Just as the carriage came round, Mr Bradshaw turned to Ruth: "Any message for Leonard beyond love, which is a matter of course?"
Ruth gasped—for she saw Mr Donne catch at the name; she did not guess the sudden sharp jealousy called out by the idea that Leonard was a grown-up man.
"Who is Leonard?" said he to the little girl standing by him; he did not know which she was.
"Mrs Denbigh's little boy," answered Mary.
Under some pretence or other, he drew near to Ruth; and in that low voice, which she had learnt to loathe, he said,
"Our child!"
By the white misery that turned her face to stone—by the wild terror in her imploring eyes—by the gasping breath which came out as the carriage drove away—he knew that he had seized the spell to make her listen at last.