Russell trouble, a good lot of trouble. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Then he did give way a bit. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. ’ ‘Distract me? She nigh on gave me an apoplexy. ’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed.
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