And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her. “It is a secret mission,” she declared. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes. I just like you, Mary, and we’ve had a lot of fun. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles.
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