” “I borrowed it,” said Ann Veronica in a casual tone, with white despair in her heart. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. They don’t now. shouldn’t be friends.
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