Ruth flew to him, flung her arms about his neck, and pressed him to her.
"Oh, Richard, Richard!" she sobbed in the immensity of her relief.
"Thank God! Thank God!" He wriggled peevishly in her embrace, disengaged her arms, and put her from him almost roughly.

"Have done!" he growled, and, lurching past her, he reached the table, took up a bottle, and brimmed himself a measure.

He gulped the wine avidly, set down the cup, and shivered.
"Where is Blake ?" he asked.
"Blake ?" echoed Ruth, her lips white.

Diana sank into a chair, watchful, fearful and silent, taking now no glory in the thing she had encompassed.
Richard beat his hands together in a passion of dismay.

"Is he not here ?" he asked, and groaned, "O God!" He flung himself all limp into a chair.