“One doesn’t want to turn the whole thing into a mere sex antagonism. A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. Thank you for the books. You needn’t be in any doubt about it. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. She did not twitch. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. " McClintock without further speech strode toward his bungalow; and half an hour later Spurlock, passing, heard the piano-tuning key at work.
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