“May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention. ” Ann Veronica looked at the mildly pensive gray eyes and the comfortable, rather refined face with a penetrating curiosity. My whole life shall be devoted to you, beloved girl. "You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension.
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