"But trifle with mo no longer. "You read it, Ruth. Lord Charvill champed upon an invisible bit for a moment or two, closing the gap between himself and the girl, and muttering the name to himself in an overwrought sort of way. “Let’s go outside. He seemed to possess infinite reserves of patience when she refused him or purposely tried to bait and anger him, but his patience only made him seem more sinister. "It is Jonathan. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. ‘Come,’ she called.
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