She was given a glimpse of his soul. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. ” The tired woman shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and then looked with them at Ann Veronica. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. He did not want Ruth to see his own stricken countenance; nor did he care to see hers, ravaged by tears. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess.
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