The man himself was not a pleasant object. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other. I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different. "A doctor at once!" cried Ruth excitedly. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign.
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