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She never questioned the motives of the characters; she had neither the ability nor the conceit for that; but she could and often did correct his lapses in colour. Here was one that subtly mocked her. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. “How did you find me?” He asked. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer. " "Be handy, then," rejoined Terence, "or, I'll lose my share of the smart money.
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