The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. This way there will be not so much shame, and the vicomte will let them remain. But oh, how weary I am! I know. I don’t think I shall ever care for this bonnet again. We were to have breakfast there and return in the evening. He, who had faced the gale, would have been instantly stifled. Guiltily, she felt very little for him, and yet she wondered what he would be like. This is altogether insupportable. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic.
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