So, step by step, and hurt by hurt, Ruth was learning that John Smith was John Smith and nobody else. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. He kissed her fingers and grinned. She pushed. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then has been closed. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. This—this shatters a world!” She tried to feel sorry, but her sense of his immense egotism was strong and clear.
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