"Oh, you're here, are you?" said the ruffian, with an exulting laugh: "I've been looking for you everywhere. Everything was going to hell. ‘Come, mademoiselle, it is of no use to conceal anything from me, you know. " So Ruth heard about the poets; she became tolerably familiar with the exploits of that engaging ruffian Cellini; she heard of the pathetic deafness of Beethoven; she was thrilled, saddened, exhilarated; and on the evening of the twelfth day she made bold to enter the talk. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. Before she put on her sun-helmet, she paused before the mirror. “Dear old daddy!” she said, and was amazed to find herself shedding tears. Teddy was the hatless young man who had turned Ann Veronica aside from the Avenue two days before. The solos were revealing, sensual and moody. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation. His stories had enchanted her, even if in some deep corner of her heart she guessed they were not entirely true.
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