At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. He was yellow and coarse of hair; flea-bitten, too; and even as he smiled at Ruth and wagged his stumpy tail, he was forced to turn savagely upon one of these disturbers who had no sense of the fitness of things. “Dear husband,” she murmured. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. “Men are curious animals, with a trick of falling in love readily with girls about your age. Besides these, there was a sturdylooking fellow, whom he instantly recognised as the honest blacksmith who had freed him from his irons at Tottenham. The work itself was refreshingly tonal, Sebastian observed. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. “Love should be enough, John, but it never is.
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