THE VICTIM Some poet has described love as a little glow and a little shiver; to Sandy it was more like a ravaging fire in his heart, which lighted up a world of such unutterable bliss that he cheerfully added fresh fuel to the flames that were consuming him.

The one absorbing necessity of his existence was to see Ruth daily, and the amount of strategy, forethought, and subtilty with which he accomplished it argued well for his future ability at the bar.
In the long hours of the night Wisdom urged prudence; she presented all the facts in the case, and convinced him of his folly.

But with the dawn he threw discretion to the winds, and rushed valiantly forward, leading a forlorn hope under cover of a little Platonic flag of truce.
With all the fervor and intensity of his nature he tried to fit himself to Ruth's standards.

Every unconscious suggestion that she let fall, through word, or gesture, or expression, he took to heart and profited by.

With almost passionate earnestness he sought to be worthy of her.