Maybe you won't listen--but please--" Ruth withdrew her hand quickly and straightened her shoulders.

The mention of the tunnel and what followed had brought with it a rush of memories that had caused her the bitterest tears of her life.

And then again what did he mean by "helping"?
"Jack," she said slowly, as if every word gave her pain, "listen to me.

When you saved my father's life and I wanted to tell you how much I thanked you for it, you would not let me tell you.

Is not that true ?" "I did not want your gratitude, Ruth," he pleaded in excuse, his lips quivering, "I wanted your love." "And why, then, should I not say to you now that I do not want your pity?
Is it because you are--" her voice sank to a whisper, every note told of her suffering--"you are--sorry for me, Jack, that you tell me you love me ?" Jack sprang to his feet and stood looking down upon her.