travelling. He
shifted his position. He knew something more was expected of him than
he could give; but he must give as he could.

"Ruth," he began, and, because his inclination was to move away, he
purposely drew nearer; "I am sure you meant nothing but kindness in
coming to Joyce Lauzoon; I can see that you mean only great good to
me--but you cannot understand. You haven't even touched upon the truth.
I suppose some people are born complete in the little; they only have to
develop. Others are--well--thrown together, and they cannot assume form
and shape until by blows and chiselling they come through the
machine--moulded. You have always been good and true; what you knew of
me, long ago, died and was thrown aside; what little survived, was
nourished apart from, and upon a life you have no conception of. I think
only lately have I realized this myself. I'm a bigger and a smaller man
than you knew, Ruth; I'm stronger and weaker; better and worse," his
hand clenched over the arm of her chair, and her eyes dilated. She was
frightened. She felt his blood rising and she shrank back. It was
horrible to be there--with him alone!

"You cannot understand, but that old life seems to me now to be--used
up, colourless and flabby. The people seem small and--all alike. This
life--is big, free and--in the making. There are souls here that are
only touched by sins that have drifted to them--they are possible of
great things. They are new and keen, and they ring true when you strike
them. The woman who left this house--the other day," Dale's words came
hard and quick, "is the most glorious creature that ever lived. The life
back there could not produce her. Strong, tender, and love itself! Not
for one instant did she pause when she knew who and what I was--she
loved--that was enough! God! how she loved. You--and women like you,
Ruth, might lead the men you love toward heaven; she would go her way
alone to perdition to add to the happiness of the man she loved. But it
would be alone, mind you.

"She's gone back to such a man as your books, even, forbear to portray.
Jude is one of the creatures up here who was born without a soul. She's
gone to him to save me, as she thought--but she'll live alone, alone as
long as she lives at all.

"So you see what trouble comes from such civilization as yours grafted
on to the primitive passions of the backwoods."

"John!"

There was no fear in Ruth Dale now, only a horrible conviction that Joh