But when Ruth's hand fell gently upon his bony head, he knew that no one in this house would ever offer him a kick. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. “Act three. It wailed at Lucy, chubby arms reaching towards her, pleading. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. ’ ‘What?’ uttered Gerald, startled.
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