Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. "I told you that before," rejoined Wood, testily. I’d rather starve!” For a moment the conversation hung upon that declaration. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. “But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. Lucy entered the room.
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