" "Don't say so," cried Mrs. It had been a very long time. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. Diedermeyer, sweetheart? He just went in. "At the bottom of that big envelope I found this one. “Never mind, old chap,” he declared. Oh God! pardon me. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. “What he had was altogether insufficient.
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