He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. No wonder we are anxious that nothing should happen to make him change his mind. Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. I didn't understand then, but I do now. It amounted to two-and-twenty pounds. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless.
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