"Zounds! what's that!" he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was heard behind them. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily upon the landing. If he keeps his word, I'll keep mine. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here.
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