he could call to come out and take possession of this living form.
Then he had her under arrest again. "Come with me!" he commanded, and he thrust her toward the door. But now Ruth fought against him.
"No; we must stay here!"
"Why?"
"Till you will believe in me!"
"Then we'll never leave here. Will you come, or must I take you?"
"Leave me alone just a minute."
"So you can get away?"
"No; just you stay here. I'll go back there," Ruth tossed toward the corner where she had sat. "There's no way out. Only—let go of me!"
He did so, watching her suspiciously. She dropped into her seat in the corner under the candle. "I've told you why I did this," she said.
"And you didn't fool me."
"I've no proof of anything I've told you," Ruth went on, "only because, if you'll think about it, you'll see I couldn't carry proof."
"I should say not."
"But I've done something since I've been here which proves what I am."
"What? Helping refugees out of Picardy? What does that prove—except that you've nerve?"
"Nothing," Ruth admitted. "If I was a German agent, I might have done that. I wasn't thinking of that."
"What of, then?"
