To fight inertia on the one hand and to study this queer girl on the other. Your attitude to me—” He fell into a brown study. You are very lovely, Ruth. She leaned back as he climbed on top of her and kissed her mouth again. To her, marriage would be a buckler against the two evils which pursued her. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery.
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