I said that her kindness emboldened me, so with great trembling hands I took her bonnet from her head and wove a piece of honeysuckle amid her nut-brown hair.
Beautiful, beautiful Ruth! Yes, after the long stretch of weary years I still call her so; but that night she was to me more than beautiful, she was like an angel. I was young and unsophisticated, and—and I did not know what was coming.
For fully five minutes we did not speak. Slowly we walked side by side in the calm still eventide, until we emerged from the lane, and went towards Pentvargle Cove. Then the sight of the rugged cliffs seemed to alter my feelings, and the old jealous passion returned. I could see the five great prongs of the "Devil's Tooth" towering into the sky, and I could not help thinking of the time, years ago, when I had scaled its slippery precipitous sides to save the girl at my side. Again the old desire to know the worst came back to me. Did Ruth love my brother Wilfred?
"Do you see the 'Devil's Tooth' yonder, Ruth?" I said.
"Yes," she said, "how calm the sea is now. How different from when I saw it first. Then—but I cannot bear to think about it, can you?" and she shuddered as she spoke.
"Oh, yes," I said. "I like to think about it. Why, Ruth, I was able to save you, you know."
She was silent, and again a bitter feeling crept into my heart.
"Don't you wish it had been Wilfred who saved you, instead of Roger?" I asked, a little bitterly.
"Why?" she said, quickly.
"Because you seem to think so much more about him. You like to be in his company, and you treasure every word that he says."