“His love-making,” she remarked, “struck me as unconvincing. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them to his lips. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. Always as black and bitter as gall. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped.
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