” 240 “Then I’ll wait for you. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. He really deserves a better fate, does he not? He is so beautifully persistent. . ‘I understand you have not been in England very long,’ he said in English, noting that Madame raised her fan and lowered her gaze demurely. He hesitated. “Your mother was a Gypsy. ’ Looking round, she found the little coterie of soldiers crowded into the passage behind them.
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