She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. I could be presented as Meysey Hill. I overheard what Mr. ’ He bowed. There he sat, cheerfully friendly in his sex’s freedom—the man she loved, the one man she cared should unlock the way to the wide world for her imprisoned feminine possibilities, and he seemed regardless that she stifled under his eyes; he made a jest of all this passionate insurgence of the souls of women against the fate of their conditions. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. with you. " And, as if to make the moral more obvious, a dirty pack of cards was scattered, underneath, upon the sawdust.
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