" "I will be there," answered Trenchard, gloomily. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. 256 Lucy chose her words carefully. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. But she did not speak. But he promised to give me a couple of guineas if I'd ascertain whether it fitted your locks. Ruth's emotion was a primitive joy: she was essential in this man's life, and she would always be happy because he would always be needing her. You won't have him long. People are afraid of her that no one has ever dared to make fun of her. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond.
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