For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. “I was born there. To buy the freedom of a poor little Chinese slave-girl! For what was the sing-song girl but a slave, the double slave of custom and of men? Ruth wanted to know keenly what had impelled the idea. "Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse.
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