‘Typical. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately. “And think of the ordinary wives and mothers, with their anxiety, their limitations, their swarms of children!” Mr. He was heartily thankful for it. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily. Ruth's arm trembled and her step faltered, but he was too far away in thought to be observant.
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