Mrs. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Apologizing for their detention, he answered the questions put to him respecting the boys, by positively denying that any such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but offered to conduct him to every cell in the building to prove the truth of his assertion. I always told you some accident would happen.
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