Ruth's mind was fertile soil; for a long time to come it would be something of a hothouse: green things would spring up and blossom overnight. ” “I know—” said Ramage, with sympathy. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself.
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