White is proud of her drawing-room evenings. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. Her defence ceased rapidly to be in any sense ladylike, and became vigorous and effective; a strand of black hair that had escaped its hairpins came athwart Ramage’s eyes, and then the knuckles of a small but very hardly clinched fist had thrust itself with extreme effectiveness and painfulness under his jawbone and ear. 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. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. Each arm of the blouse had the faintest of rings around the elbow, a stain that looked familiar. It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman.
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