She was dropped off at 2:30 at Whitefield Park, a huge extravagantly lit field in the new part of town. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished.
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