. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. He wondered if, after all, McClintock wasn't nearest the truth, that Ruth was one of those unfortunate yet innocent women who make havoc with the hearts of men. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. It must have been impossible to see me through that much rain. We made sure it was just like Gwen. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked.
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