What marriage really meant (aside from the idea of escape), Ruth had not the least conception, no more than a child. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. Certainly, there wasn't a thing in the pockets. I will neither stir hand nor foot for you more. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. He embraced her like her father once had. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did. But to go courting a slave-girl, at the risk of physical hurt! A shudder of distaste wrinkled her shoulders. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. Besides ——” She stopped short.
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