All the talk in the world would not describe Ruth. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. ’ ‘She again?’ enquired his hostess, her delicate brows rising ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers.
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