She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. CHAPTER XXIII Next morning Ruth did not refer to the episode on the sands of the lagoon. She had been carrying them, he assumed, but then again the school had some particularly talented kids among the usual ruffians. A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter as the sounds died away. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. And there arose too, a background of shouts. . “GOOD CATCH, ALBERT!” A husky girl had bayed as she witnessed the puck’s abrupt flight. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. I don’t suppose a girl can tell if a man is in love with her or not in love with her.
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