Youth! You denied me even that," said Ruth, her glance now flashing to her father. Kneebone," she added, drawing up her magnificent figure to its full height, and making the heavy cudgel whistle through the air, "look to yourself. But I will go. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. A new thought checked her steps and she froze. "Because—because I'm always distrustful of a priest," rejoined Jonathan. "What for?" demanded Wood.
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