Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. The slow stars circled on to the moment of their meeting. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. She’s taken my sword. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. In the grate were some charred fragments of a marriage certificate. ‘That piece of information seemed to interest him very much. Had he not said so? Not that she wished him to marry her. They exchanged greetings with the clarinetist. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. But there is something in your voice that makes me distrust you. ” He seemed to be elaborating ideas as he talked. His interest was divided: while his ears drank in the sounds, his glance constantly roved from Ruth to the performer and back to Ruth.
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