If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. ‘Gerald, this is a nun’s habit. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. She too at once developed an anxious interest in the street outside. Her parents totally look the other way. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Howard Taber.
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