84 < 12 > A SECOND DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER “Ding dong. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. And then she came out into the street, sure only of one thing—that she could not return directly to her lodgings. That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. A pretty piece. "Is Thames returned from London?" "Not yet," replied the other; "but I expect him every minute. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. Gray and tranquil world! Amazing, passionless world! A world in which days without meaning, days in which “we don’t want things to happen” followed days without meaning—until the last thing happened, the ultimate, unavoidable, coarse, “disagreeable. If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. Goopes said she believed in nothing else, and with that she glanced at Ann Veronica, rose a little abruptly, and directed Goopes and the shy young man in the handing of refreshments. Part 3 At last the evening was over, and Capes and his wife had gone down to see Mr.
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