Ruth did not reply, but stared past the doctor, her eyes misty. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. "If I am the devil," observed Wild, "as some folks assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll find that I differ from the generally-received notions of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands of those who confide their souls to my custody. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. Wild's name. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. Until this instant, he discovered, he had thought of Melusine’s plan only in a nebulous fashion, a naïve girl’s dream. Cursed him for his devotion that had made him come back for her, only to get himself shot by the fiendish Gosse.
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