And this is not France, you understand. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. So Ruth found that for a while her eyes were free. Rather a magniloquent term, perhaps, but what else am I to say? One of these is that the most absolutely selfish thing in the world is to give way to depression, to think of one’s troubles at all except of how to overcome them.
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