Ruth laughed and the tension was broken. But there was still a little feeling of restraint, and after a few minutes Parmalee excused himself and strolled away.
Ruth kept on stitching busily, her face bent studiously over her work.
Drew looked at her miserably, bitterly regretting the momentary impulse to which he had yielded. He knew in his heart that he had been jealous of the impression that Parmalee, by his easy and graceful narration, had seemed to be making on Ruth, and he hated himself for it.
"Ruth," he said softly.
She seemed not to have heard him.
"Ruth," he repeated.
"Yes?" she answered, but without looking up.