But his glance roved, to the door through which Ruth had gone, to Enschede's drooping back. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. ’ Mrs Sindlesham sighed deeply. . She longed to enjoy human food as he did. She backed away from him. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. He is in the secret passage. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. That, I think, is manifest. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. .
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