’ Bitterness rose up as he looked at the female. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. "You open it, Ruth. ” “Was he divorced, do you mean?” “No, but he got himself mixed up in a divorce case. It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. Curiosity to see what a sing-song girl was like took possession of Ruth's thoughts.
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