“Vee,” she said, “come home. " "Very right, my love," said Wood, "very sensibly remarked. 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. Then Courtlaw looked across at her with a white puzzled face. "He lives at Dollis Hill, a beautiful spot near Willesden, about four or five miles from town, where he has taken a farm. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town.
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