“Yes. “I shouldn’t have waited,” she said. “Permit me to offer you the English paper which has just arrived, Sir John,” he said, holding out a Daily Telegraph. He’ll do. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. Love … to take her in his arms and to comfort her: and then to add to her cup of bitterness the knowledge that her husband was a thief! For himself he did not care; God could continue to grind and pulverize him; but to add another grain to the evil he had already wrought upon Ruth was unthinkable. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. We'll celebrate that check, and let the rest of the world go hang.
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