It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron. “Lucy, this isn’t funny anymore. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. However, he has already presented himself to the Charvills, and passed inspection. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe.
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