The Rose in the Ring

by George Barr McCutcheon

"Oh, out somewhere. I've got ten or twelve hours to kill."

She struggled to her feet.

"Tom, you are not going to leave this house until to-night."

He drew back, amazed.

"What?"

"I am going down to the river with you."

Comprehension was slow in filtering into his brain. A ghastly pallor spread over his face.

"What did you say?"

"I am going to the river with you. But you must stay here until to-night. You are not to go out into the streets. Do you understand?"

"You can't mean that—Why, you must be crazy. You? Why—why, I'm doing it so that you can live. You can't mean what you're thinking of—" He could not complete the sentence. A heavy sweat broke out on his forehead.