Monsieur is going inside perhaps?” But Sir John’s eyes were still riveted upon the poster, and his heart was beating with unaccustomed force. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. ’ A scowl crossed the lady’s face.
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