If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. She made a quick movement, and the hand fell away. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. ” Her mind went back to that treaty. Don’t take my word for it though. She wondered abjectly whether he intended to rape her before she was dead. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. " The prison bars of circumstance, they no longer encompassed her.
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