He was caressing an idea. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. For Ruth was in love, tenderly and beautifully in love; but she did not know how to express it beyond the fetch and carry phase. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. Then he rallied, smiling a little.
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