Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. I hope you have learned your lesson now and come to see—come to realize—how things are. Will you forgive me—if I say no more?” She looked at him with perplexed, earnest eyes. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. ” She picked at her sandwich idly. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable.
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