They slow danced to a Bon Jovi ballad. "Now, let's see who'll dare to take him down," she cried. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. I believe I’m in love. Her father was right: Ruth must never know. Later, she would sew it on. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic.
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