I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. ‘Is that a gesture of friendship?’ She stamped her foot. "Eggs for me! You mistake, child. Their conversation became stilted. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. “Let your friends act for you. Through a blur of tears Ruth followed the rocking light until it vanished. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. “You’ve got to take the decent reasonable way. Her lips came together with an expression between contentment and the faintest shadow of a smile, her manner was one of quiet reserve, and behind this mask she was wildly discontented and eager for freedom and life.
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