“I want to be your friend,” he said. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. She was sitting on the mean straw mattress that was placed on the iron bedstead in the makeshift cell, while Melusine stood with her back to the door, confronting her old nurse with the truth. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. She told us that it was a disguise.
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