“I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately. “They say there are spots on the sun. ” She controlled a sob. . “I will be off,” she declared. She moved towards it slowly and picked it up, holding it out in front of her whilst the familiar perfume seemed to assert itself with damning insistence. Spurlock began to watch for Ruth's coming in the morning; first, with negligent interest, then with positive eagerness.
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