Pity you aren’t under my command. I dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate,—if the efforts to save him are ineffectual,—may have upon her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind. Here we are. He handed Ruth a letter. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window. The twins weren’t far behind, they got put into the psych ward too. He’ll do. “You shall go,” he declared. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love.
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