And all the third act is love-sick music. "It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan," said Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes filled with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have done for you. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. Keep your eye upon the lad. You're an angel of goodness. "Good-bye!" For a moment Ruth was tempted to fling herself against the withered bosom; but long since she had learned repression.
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