But as the mystery which surrounded Ruth fell away that which enveloped her father thickened. He gave Valade the go-ahead and they’ve gone off to visit him. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. "Thanks. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. Then he released her hand, and sat back a little, appearing to concentrate his thoughts on her face. Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. His glasses were gone. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. “I’m mostly self-taught.
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