"You are Ruth?" "Yes," said Ruth, stirred by anger and bitterness and astonishment. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. Some have no males. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness.
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