Page:MacGrath--The luck of the Irish.djvu/320

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THE LUCK OF THE IRISH

sioner as he escorted this strange pair to the door. "I don't know what her worry is, but it strikes me that she is going to be ill."

"Ill?"

"Yes."

The missioner was now positive that the girl was not fully aware of the step she had taken. Confused and troubled, he let them go out into the compound before he recalled that he had not blessed them. He ran after, waving his hands. William's thought was that he had innocently given the missioner some bad money.

"I forgot to bless you, you poor children!"

William bent his head, but Ruth stared straight on.

Their dinner at Raffles's was sadder even than the wedding. Neither could eat; neither could talk; neither of them heard the cheerful Chinese table-boy repeat his "Melly Clistmus!"

William thought he understood what was going on in Ruth's mind. She was reviewing her life, her failures, and this final smash of all her woman's dreams. He knew. The man she had picked out in fancy did not in the least resemble William Grogan. He had not meant anything wrong; yet it was now evident that he had committed a crime he had taken advantage of her helplessness, he had not given her a chance to recover her balance.

The more closely he looked into his act, the more reprehensible it became. Marriage! God help him, he saw clearly enough now that what

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