"I am going to marry the man with the sneer," she said simply enough,
and with dull, patient eyes she watched the face of Ronicky wrinkle
and grow pale, as if a heavy fist had struck him.

"You?" he asked. "You marry him?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"And you hate the thought of him!"

"I--I don't know. He's kind--"

"You hate him," insisted Ronicky. "And he's to have you, that
cold-eyed snake, that devil of a man?" He moved a little, and she
turned toward him, smiling faintly and allowing the light to come more
clearly and fully on her face. "You're meant for a king o' men, lady;
you got the queen in you--it's in the lift of your head. When you find
the gent you can love, why, lady, he'll be pretty near the richest man
in the world!"

The ghost of a flush bloomed in her cheeks, but her faint smile did
not alter, and she seemed to be hearing him from far away. "The man
with the sneer," she said at length, "will never talk to me like that,
and still--I shall marry him."

"Tell me your name," said Ronicky Doone bluntly.

"My name is Ruth Tolliver."

"Listen to me, Ruth Tolliver: If you was to live a thousand years, and