"Mr. Lynde?"

"Can I not see her a moment?"

"See Ruth?"

"My request appears strange to you, does it not? It would not appear
strange if you knew all."

"All? I don't understand you," replied Mrs. Denham, resting her hand on
the back of a chair and regarding him with slowly dilating pupils.

"If you knew how troubled I am--and how deeply I love her."

"You love Ruth!"

"More than I can tell you."

"Have you told HER?" Mrs. Denham demanded.

"Not in so many words."

Mrs. Denham slowly sank into the chair and for several seconds appeared
completely oblivious of the young man's presence; then, turning sharply
on Lynde, and half rising, she asked with a kind of fierceness, "Does
Ruth know it?"

"A woman always knows when she is loved, I fancy. Miss Denham probably
knew it before I did."