Fountain Park, past homes of ease and luxury, until Ruth's own home was reached. But a reserve had fallen on them. The first shadow had drifted across their common path and lay impalpably about them. Could it be possible that so slight a shadow as this, deepening and darkening, would eventually so blind their eyes that, unseen each by the other, they would go stumbling and alone, by cruelly divergent paths, toward unknown goals as far apart as the antipodes of eternity?
This was the thought and fear that hugged Westgate's mind as he strolled back down the hill that day to his mother's home in the city. And, as he walked, the glory of the day was obscured. Gray clouds dragged their unwelcome bulk across the sun, a chill and hostile wind set the shadowed leaves of the trees to trembling and sighing, and the gloom that forebodes the coming storm settled down upon the earth.
