” “I am really curious,” she persisted. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time. The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. Meantime, a change had taken place in the weather. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. “It is your sister and her husband,” he said. ” “Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily. . It had been easy to steal. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon.
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