"It was all low—and evil, that life with Jude, except the poor baby. That had a soul, too, but the dreadful body could not hold it. It had to go—and oh! I am so glad.
"Then, in all the world, there was nowhere for me to go but—here. I did not mean to fling myself upon him. I came to save him. There was money Jude had—oh! it doesn't matter, but anyway, things happened, and I was left—on Mr. Gaston's mercy.
"I had only one idea of men—then. You see Jude had almost made a beast of me, too." The great eyes shone until they burned into Ruth Dale's brain.
"But Mr. Gaston rose high and far above my low fear and thought. How I hated myself then for daring to judge him by—Jude. No, he made a clean, holy place for me to live in. He saw no other way to help me—perhaps he did not look far enough in the future, it did not matter—but he never came down from his high place except to make me better by his heavenly goodness.
"After a while it grew easy—after I comprehended his thought for me—and we were very happy—just as we might have been had we been brother and sister. I grew to think his own kind would know and understand how impossible it would be for him to be other than what he was; and for what the lower people thought I had no care. I was—just happy!
"But something happened. Perhaps being near such goodness made me a little better; and a great happiness and lack of fear helped—I think I got nearer to his high place. He loved to give me pretty things. He gave me this"—the fumbling fingers touched the yellow gown; "and I suppose I looked—different, and then he saw that I had—changed and—and he—loved me! I know he loved me; women can tell. I could not be wrong about that. You see I had always loved him—and had once hungered so for his love that when it came I could not be deceived. It—was—that—last—night he told me—about—the past! Then he went away to find Jude—to get Jude to set me free—and we were—going to—be—" the words trailed into a faint moan. "But I see, I see! Even if it had come out right—I'd always be, for all his goodness, old Jared Birkdale's daughter, and Jude Lauzoon's wife. That, he would have to bear and suffer for me—and his world would never forgive him—nor me!
"No; I do love him too well for that. I give him back to his place, and you."
"To me?" And Ruth Dale, haggard and trembling, came slowly around the table, clinging to it for support. When she reached Joyce, she put out cold, groping hands and clutched her by the shoulders.
"You—give him back to me—why? Who is he?"
"John Gaston is—John Dale. It has all come to me so suddenly, I cannot explain, but there is no mistake. I am going to Jude Lauzoon, so that neither you nor he can keep me—from what alone is mine; but be—good to him—or God will never forgive you! Please go now. I must hurry. Good-bye."