It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Yes, this was a little better. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. ’ ‘But the general gave his permission. " Trenchard, meanwhile, whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as death, but he moved not a muscle. Briefly explained, she was as the child who discards the rag baby for the living one. Any financial return was inconsiderable against the promise of this psychological treat. " CHAPTER XIII. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone.
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