She would just walk out of the house and go. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. Then with an indescribable relief her feet were on the pavement, and she was being urged along by two policemen, who were gripping her wrists in an irresistible expert manner. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Mrs. Do not mistake me. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. Her father was right: Ruth must never know.
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