He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. It was so arranged that Ruth went on duty after breakfast and remained until noon. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. "Will he post the cole? Will he come down with the dues? Ask him that?" cried Blueskin.
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