" "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. "What's that?" demanded McClintock. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. "Well reminded," answered Rowland, who had witnessed his struggles with a smile of gratified vengeance; "I had forgotten the accursed imp in this confusion. Both girls looked pale and listless. I guess she used to pick on her for being big and fat.
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