CHAPTER V At dinner the spinsters invited Ruth to sit at their table, an invitation she accepted gratefully. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. To Capes he was almost deferential, and she had never seen him deferential in the old time, never. "No, no, Sir," replied Ireton. Wood fared still worse. F. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. .
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