Acknowledge your faults. As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. ‘And nnever would you have f-found it. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr.
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