After Capes had finished the Scotchman’s troubles he went back into the preparation-room. By a sort of instinct. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. So far as I am concerned, I am just now a hopeless nonentity. Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight.
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