At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. Men usually do. But are we any more free?” “Well?” “I mean we’ve long strings to tether us, but we are bound all the same. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. Melusine whirled. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ” “No, mine. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone.
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