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"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. " "How so?" asked the other, distrustfully. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. The boat rocked violently with the struggle. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Sebastian dared not approach her. So soft. She come home within a few months of the wedding. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. There were no mourners. . I went to the theatre that night. He was a philosopher.
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