Let—it—fall. I wonder if she has any idea how oddly beautiful she is?" Ruth at that precise moment was engaged by a relative wonder. She had delicate oval features, light, laughing blue eyes, a pretty nez retroussé, (why have we not the term, since we have the best specimens of the feature?) teeth of pearly whiteness, and a brilliant complexion, set off by rich auburn hair, a very white neck and shoulders,—the latter, perhaps, a trifle too much exposed. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. She interrupted. Fiercely defensive, as usual. Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane.
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