They took their places at a distant table. That's well. But Ruth was his woman, and he had sworn to God to defend her. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. Ruth came to him directly. And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. And I’m afraid. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. When I think of it—” “But these are things I want to tell you now!” “I made a little song of it. " Ruth did so, but without any particular fervour. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. “It’s like this,” he said, and dragged a stool beside her and sat down with his elbow four inches from hers and made a sketch. "My wife and daughter, Sir," said the carpenter, introducing them to his guest.
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