His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. ’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully. Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. At first she thought that the woman was just a servant. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. He handed Ruth a letter. . . Mrs.
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