Ruth returned to the table. The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. “You were booked of course. “A joke! Sir John, if you had presented yourself here an hour ago we should have greeted you in pained silence. ’ ‘Why must you?’ asked Gerald calmly. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. You were never married at all. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. .
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