At the least, the tales had the ability to make her forget where she was; which was something in their favour. White,” she remarked. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. Will you come sensibly, or shall I carry you? You are mine!" Ruth's peculiar education had not vitiated the primitive senses; they were always on guard; and in a moment such as this they rushed instantly to the surface. ‘But only think, Hilary,’ Lucy protested, evidently too involved in her theory to waste time in scolding. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain.
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