The Scot understood that, gently and indirectly, Ruth was asking her husband a question, opening a door if he cared to enter. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. While he was thus employed, his nerves underwent a severe shock.
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