\"It's getting late John. Gerald did not know who she was, but he knew who she was not. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. “I just wanted you to see that the time will come when I must leave you, and the time is coming soon. He recalled with exasperating perplexity her clear, matter-of-fact tone as she talked about love-making being unconvincing. "Good-bye, Mac. ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. Alas! that the punishment of his offences should fall on her head. Her faith in human beings revived.
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