To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. You can’t! I tell you frankly you may break off your engagement to me—I shall hold myself still engaged to you, yours just the same. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. The overnight nervous strain began to tell; she became inattentive to the work before her, and it did not get on.
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