" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. Sheppard in a troubled voice, "that if I lost my child, I should lose all I have left in the world. It began as a joke.
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