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. He sent me home. “It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. Disappointed puppy-love, and all that. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. Fortescue in the drawing-room, and actually shake hands with him in an entirely hopeless manner and hope everything would turn out for the best.
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