But not so much a pig as that man. ” “I began to be afraid you might not come at all. McClintock laughed as he gave the letter to Ruth. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. She followed the official back into his room. The Ragged Edge. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. . He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears.
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