"You open it, Ruth. The dinner was stranger than she had ever anticipated. You cannot draw. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY. He was ill at ease, though he would not have confessed his disquietude even to himself.
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