“Well?” she said. He would repeat them innumerable times, and patiently Ruth would repeat her answers. The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. From then on he was Ruth's dog. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. . ’ She spread her hands. He recognised this object at once. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. Then you may have a bit of a chance.
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