" "Just to give her her freedom?" said Ruth, turning to Ah Cum. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. I've always been more or less music-mad. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. She packed her things, then ran a mile to Julian’s apartment. The curtains which she had left drawn were open, and the electric lights were turned on. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed.
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