’” “I have no choice,” Anna declared. Ruth wore a printed cotton kimono. Wood heard the cry. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. “And you brought her a man, I presume. There, in a little tea and sweetstuff shop, she bought and consumed slowly and absent-mindedly the insufficient nourishment that is natural to her sex on such occasions. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. “Have to go now. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. “But for you Dad would never have let me marry Lescelles.
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