While he was considering what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose bewildered brain another change had come, raised her head from under the straw, and peeping round the room, asked in a low voice, "If they were gone?" "Who?" inquired Jack. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. “I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. “Indeed, I must implore you to return.
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