. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. Oh, I grew fond of you as the years went by. He loved the sea, and could give a good account of himself in any weather. So Ruth took another step toward her destination, which we in our vanity call destiny. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. “Punctual. And it's a maxim of universal application: or, at least, of universal practice.
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