It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. So long as he lived, Spurlock knew that in fancy he would be reconstructing that scene between himself and Ruth's father. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. ’ She smiled on the last words, adding, ‘Oh, I don’t blame you for trying. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. You must forgive the poet’s license I take.
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