That's the way she strikes me. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. The race began once more; but this time Ruth knew that there would be no escape. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. Those lives removed,—and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours—HIS! if he were your husband. " It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though Ah Cum did not like the significance of the word and was turning it over and about in speculation.
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