Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers. She had gladly lowered her eyes as she had been instructed to in front of the fine ladies and lords, as she was more interested in their clothing and fripperies than their faces. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. . ” He shook his head, and threw open the door of a great dimly-lit apartment on the ground floor. “They say there are spots on the sun. It would be downright cruel to disillusion her.
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