He saw himself retreating from barricade to barricade, Ruth always advancing, perfectly oblivious of the terror she inspired. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet. “I shall be very glad to have you for a friend,” he said, “loving friend.
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