Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. ” She pointed with shaking fingers to a great bunch of dark red carnations, thrust carelessly into a deep china bowl, to which the card was still attached. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. The real Ruth was as completely hidden as though she stood behind the walls of Agra Fort. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. She could not resist enduing persons she met with the noble attributes of the fictional characters. There was a hint of tears in her voice. “Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. John Sheppard.
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