Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. I’ve no name for it yet. As they're so fond of each other's society they shan't part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree. Detention was merry for the other detainees. Not a word passed between them. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. "Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. She began to read, and presently she entered another world, and remained in it for two hours.
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