” Annabel shrugged her shoulders. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over. I am an old friend, and I declined to be shelved. A Hand that strove to reach his shoulder, relentless, soulless but lawful. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached. 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. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window.
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