"Not a farthing of it shall be expended except in the Captain's service. Please to let me go there. A solemn consideration, when I enter a great city at night, that every one of those darkly clustered houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it!' … It kind of terrifies me," said Ruth, looking up, first at the face of her husband, then at McClintock's. " "Come, come, Captain," remonstrated Blueskin. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Understand me! I forbid it.
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