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“I confess it. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. He jumped out of the car. ' Why," said Ruth, "you did not read that to us. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. " "I can't! I can't—not now!" "Bat!—can't you see that she's the kind who would understand and forgive? She loves you. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo. You're on the way to big things.
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