“My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. It took all my self control not to let my hands wander. It arises, I think, from an over developed sense of humour. ” He started back as though he had been shot. But in the train going home her aunt reasoned it out. She was in ill trim for walking, but somehow or other she made her way as far as the Champs Elysées, and sank down upon an empty seat. Find your man, that’s the rule. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night.
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