The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward. She felt a little ashamed of herself, a bit of a hypocrite. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down.
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