When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. ‘Would it so? What sort of a girl is she, then?’ ‘She’s a consummate devil,’ Gerald declared roundly. There are many things which I do not understand. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. Ennison, or any other young man. She had also discovered the names of Grimm and Andersen; but at that time she had not been able to visualize "the pale slender things with gossamer wings"—fairies.
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