The Old Mint III. CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. My friend, I am only grieved that you of all others should have been so deceived. Even to my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?” “No, no!” he protested.
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