This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. But when she spoke her lips quivered, and they came. He began to tell me something—and stopped. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. As soon as he had read it, he let it fall from his grasp. Ruth and Spurlock separated, the one embarrassed, the other utterly dumfounded.
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