" "It is not Jack's voice," rejoined Mrs. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. They troubled no one, and as long as they did not noise themselves abroad and make a nuisance of themselves in this Protestant country, no one troubled them. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. It was nothing like the big church wedding she wanted, but nothing could shame her greater than to have a child out of wedlock.
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