A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. ’ ‘In a way she had been,’ said Prudence. Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and indulgently. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. ’ Gosse blinked. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound.
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