I want to be your knight, your servant, your protector, your—I dare scarcely write the word—your husband. " "More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony across his brow. He put his free arm around her and held the censer ready; and as Ruth snuggled her cheek against his sleeve, they were, so far as intent, in each other's arms. \"Where are you going?\" She cried. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so.
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