CHAPTER XXII
THE HARPIST ONCE MORE
Over all, Ruth wore a woolen sweater—one of those stretchy, clinging coats with great pearl buttons that was just the thing for a skating frolic. It had been her one reckless purchase since being at Briarwood, she and Helen having gone down into Lumberton on Saturday and purchased coats. While Ruth and Tom were yet some yards from the open water the girl began to unbutton this.
"Careful, Tom!" she gasped. "Not too near—wait!"
"It's thick 'way to the edge," he returned pantingly.
"No, it isn't. That's why Mary Cox went in. I saw the ice break under her when she tried to turn and escape."
Thus warned, Tom dug the heel of his right skate into the ice as a brake, and they slowed down.
Ruth let go of his hand and wriggled out of her coat in a moment. Then she dropped to her
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