"But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side. I'm sure she'll let me go, though. ‘Thought it was downright wicked to keep you ignorant of your proper background. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. You want music. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon.
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