"Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. Ruth did not reply, but stared past the doctor, her eyes misty. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. Kneebone and his Friends. " McClintock preferred to put it thus. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards. This is a mere boy.
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