But it is my fault. She took up a book and threw it down again. “Then you need to find someone else. "I could hang him now if I liked. Who knows?—on the analogy of “Squiggles” she might come to call him “Mangles!” “I don’t think I can ever marry any one,” she said, and fell suddenly into another set of considerations that perplexed her for a time. ‘Not from the nuns, no. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. Even her memories of he who had frequented her life for the longest period of years were worn and fading. As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to everybody throughout the whole of the meal—tonight he was almost silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx.
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