Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. The problem had returned, made gigantic by the possibility of Ruth's love. " "You'd better take care of your mother's son instead," rejoined Blueskin.
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