. “It isn’t anything to do with our times particularly. . I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. I am tired, and I want to be alone. "Look at him!" Ruth looked. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent. "Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan.
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