It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. As she drew off her skirt she felt something in the pocket, and remembered the letter which the commissionaire at the Carlton had given her. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess. ” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all. She started forward.
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