"There's his knock. " "All right. Brother and Sister VIII. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. And you are something of a heroine, too. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. He had saluted her with elaborate civility, his eyes distended with indecipherable meanings.
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