"Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. Seizing her hand he covered it with kisses. His glance came up again and met hers. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. Stanley’s pace slackened. I was being stupid. “You need not be alarmed,” he said. “No. ’ ‘Yes, but how are you going to find her?’ ‘I will ask—’ She broke off.
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