Lose not a moment, Hobson. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. The first Step towards the Ladder VII. The nun on the threshold was of middle age and heavily built, her back uneven from toil and her hands roughened. She became aware of the Scotch student regarding her with stupendous amazement, a tea-cup poised in one hairy hand and his faceted glasses showing a various enlargement of segments of his eye.
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