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. None saw, though all felt, his presence, and heard the thunder of his voice. And then she fell into a musing about Capes. Tender with the sick, firm with the strong, fearless, with a body that had the resistance of iron, there was nothing of the hypocrite in him. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. " And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth.
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