She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. “You see, daddy, I don’t think it IS preposterous. Five hours later she tiptoed down the hall and paused at the threshold of what they now called his study. She took his hand in hers. Little by little the pool cleared, the whims vanished: so that both Ruth and the doctor, by the middle of the third week, began to accept Spurlock's actions as normal, whereas there was still a mote or two which declined to settle, still a kink in the gray matter that refused to straighten out. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. “Go it, miss!” cried one.
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