If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. That was supposed to be Madame Valade. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. "This she-devil has got hold of the sack.
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